Sunday, July 1, 2007

Daring Debbie Does Drugs in Dallas, Denmark

We were about to drive somewhere else but ended up in Denmark. Why? Why? Why did we have to end up our old, pathetic selves in the shitty part of Denmark, which is called Dallas. When we think about that frigid night we start dreaming, then we start really sneezing out our dreams of cities that are never lit and never sleeping and never cold when it should be. Like teenagers in heat are always cold, the original road to Denmark was made of fine, ground, glowing pinecones. Arranged in cyclical spirals pointing in towards this galaxy where I live, where total I walk in circles, searching for the beam.