There is a smell of bananas and mildew in the van. He inspects his nails and bites them neurotically. I am sore from various sitting positions and bored with smoking. My left eye is watering from all the yawning. All for that hour onstage.
Today we lose a member of our family. In that chase for money, we're sure softer hearts than ours have been broken. And today we know of one little heart that is splitting right in two. We are there for her but besides that, we are powerless against her loss.
Tender girl, don't grow up so fast.
From the ashes, like an eerie silent battlefield, DP
Magic works even in a thick fog. It cuts through like the second hand of a watch, steady and consistent. But magic isn't always magical. The lessons can be awful, mundane, even treacherous. While your bigger dreams explode far away, you are cleaning piss and shit for a living. Watching your bank account dry up to nothingness. How is this magic on a grand scale? What the hell kind of dream is coming true?