if only there is such interferon
against teenage fan club.
a cup of black coffee,
2 hours of talk with you.
and i realised,
he began to have such bad taste
in music,
in views of ideas,
in thoughts,
in words,
in choices of companies,
and perhaps more,
which i can't bear to discover.
i fear for him.
for i began to outcast him.
i have an outline drawn,
to be protected against this disease
of bad-taste.
the stark truth is that
i am leaving him.
this discovery appalled me.
i have to take a rest,
have therapy of any sort,
to rid this kafkaesque disappointment.
now now no longer.
then,
it shall be.
goodbye.
reader k | 9/14/2005 12:05:00 PM |
