fuzz pedal guitar

Originally uploaded by Foxtongue.

I have to keep myself awake till past midnight to hit the bank properly. There’s a little bit less to do around here, but I know my room is back on it’s way to messy when x-rays are scattered all over the floor again. The ferret slides on them, sending them skimming across the carpet in little sheets of morbid blue. It’s distracting. I’d forgotten what a bitch it can be scanning darker ones. There’s no detail being captured at all. No delicate panty-lines, no arching skull screaming. I’m going to have to take them somewhere else to get what I want.

This is a one-shot kill.

Earlier today I went down and I think picked out some frames. If I can get enough money together to hit the optometrist, I’m going to do it this week. I want to see things sharp again. I want eyes in my head that work. I remember a long time ago that things had edges. That there was a line between the top of a tree and the sky, defined. I remember.

The hardest thing to lose has been faces, friends. People see me faster than I see them. I learn your movement, your shape, your sound or I don’t know you. There’s not a chance I’ll see someone from across the street. Yesterday I enthusiatically greeted someone I’d never met before because they walked like my friend. I can’t bring myself to write about it yet. Not properly. I can’t breathe. Photographs are precious things. Take as many as you can.

In fact – would everyone here please show me thier face?

I would dearly love to see my friends.

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