Scrapyard

Change is an unnatural state, we’re fickle slabs of metal, purpose built cars refusing to be taken consciously by the crusher at the scrapyard. Yet as the metal contorts and writhes you’ve got to wonder is the damage eternally irreversible? The past collides with the present, I’m watching the future float out of eyesight, like … Continue reading Scrapyard

Well Mr. Brizell it seems that the world’s changing

This life is filthy. I should be dead and buried but I’m still here somehow. My liver and lungs are rotting. I’m fatigued from the hangover. What day is it darling? I often forget. The world’s changing and I’m changing with it. Borderline personality disorder’s corroding my existence. I’m drinking gin most nights, reflecting on … Continue reading Well Mr. Brizell it seems that the world’s changing