where's that eject button?
this just in: one conversation wipes out five days. film at eleven.
i think the high is going down in flames. reality struck yet again and hard facts are faced.
i worked in a kubrick-like setting on auto pilot, waiting for the clock to hit 2am. that repetitive usher instrumental is the soundtrack for this crash that's moving in slow motion. my mind is moving at mach one.
in a panic, i hastily look for that red button that will save me. will it?
should i hold on?
i want to...