biscuit's dreaming; clouds above its head

this is a prayer to banish thoughts of you from my mind im veiling your face with scrawls and haze and fog and static by the time I wake and come to I will be all alone but it'll be okay, it'll be all ill remember I'm rediscovering my own corner within the discomfort and I don't know when I'll come back and when I do, it'll be with my own blood in my mouth i hope i never think of you again.

I laugh in hysterical joy My heart my feels so light But I finally plant my feet down on the ground from the exhilaration from the drop And I feel my heart slow pace I wish to eternal-sunshine-of-the-spotless-mind you Even though that film taught me otherwise I can't take this anymore I wish I never even got to see your face in the first place I can't even look into crowds anymore, I get scared I'm so sick of this feeling I'm so sick of feeling sick of this feeling I hate the feeling of my heart slowing to its regular pace again I hate the feeling of planting my feet down on the ground again I can't take this anymore I wish love was like in the movies I wish love was like in the parades I wish love was like in the songs pretty images and perfect dreams not real, not real, not real they seal your fate by the first frame and I've seen this movie before it doesn't end well all these recreated sets all these reused cels why want to be shown something new when I...

よろしくお願いします, 大阪 I try not to cry as I sit inbetween two salarymen on the subway I'm drunk, I'm sad, I curse myself and everything I'm on the osaka metro and this was everything ive ever wanted my life to be where else better to be to be so miserable and alone? I walk back after one too many drinks and tearing up my throat at the karaoke bar osaka is cold and lonely this time of night even here has a cardboard city of it's own rattling of pipes the buzzing of vending machines on every turn the garbage trucks compacting masses of full plastic bags littering the strip mall the wheels of the homeless woman's luggage rolling on the concrete echoing behind me like a ghost story it's so quiet, it's deathly quiet haah, it's so cold tonight

the parade and fireworks are so bright and colourful tonight so I'm crying do dreams have to be so shiny and sparkly and bright? why can't I just have you? why can't I just be happy with you? do I have to dream big? do I have to dream electric dreams? do I have to have company sponsored dreams? as the orchestra on the park speakers swelled I cried, I cried hard the strings swelled and burst the last golden of burst of fireworks dissipated like gold sinking down to the depths of the ocean I'm silently sobbing as my head stays affixed to the sky perfect clear night skies "are all you need and all I need is you" salarymen keeled over on total exhaustion on the hibiya line I take my sisters back to the hotel on the train and I sleep with my arms dry and bruised お休み、東京 brought to you by biprogy

all those wishes on wood blocks I hope they come true, I hope they all come true surrounded by the ueno park trees and shrines Imperial buildings dedicated to people long ago "God, bring my son back to me." to all the Japanese boys and girls holding each other's hands in neat little pairs for safety good luck, good luck, I wish you all good luck on the train to akihabara, there was a girl who caught my eye green checkered pants, tucked in checkered shirt no salarymen to be seen on the asakusa-toei line I come back the earliest I've been to the hotel and I sleep with my arms scabbed over

brick road, perfectly square theres families here, I haven't seen them anywhere else i stared at the photo spots carriages and chariots dreamscapes and pastel colours and when it was my turn to shoot an image I took them empty I'm reserving them for you I'll leave them empty for you i could sleep for the rest of these two weeks i almost do I wander the chiyoda streets in pastel colours under the Christmas lights I feel like a child, but not in a good or bad way I'm tired I'm chewing on grape mints to keep me alive I'm not too cold I'm okay I'm happy the battery on my camera died so you'll have to take my word for it when I say the garden on the way to the imperial palace was nice salarymen on the yurakucho line watching tokusatsu on their phone I come back early to the hotel and I sleep with my arms scratched up and bleeding [the complete photo collection for this day has genuinely mysteriously vanished from my computer, like it had never even happen...

shibuya crossing is smaller in person I feel like this place stretches forever yet shibuya crossing is smaller in person every building stacked on-top of each other high and thin I came out of shibuya dreaming of the high life and 700 dollars less salarymen sleeping in the train on the shinjuku line I barely get to the hotel on time and I fall asleep with my arms scratched up and bleeding