Humour Me

Humour Me;

1. Humour me until it is all over and we're washed up on the beach
Our emaciated faces are withdrawn, they are neutralised by the mystery, they are confronted by innate ideals and the hedonistic supine trances of a festival for the blessed who can dream before they sleep.

2.Human remains are becoming debris, an inconvenience as in life
for religions of regret. Forming heroes from silhouettes in a self-censored panoptican and conceding we are just here to decay as transparently predictable examples of impure thought.

3.Islands of blue solitude are breeding new frequencies
into the cynical sneer of organic and plastic walking cliches. We are victims of our vanity, an ugly flower a vacant smile with a vapour of occurences for memory which are distilled into one intimate thought...

4.Humour me until it is all over and we're washed up on the beach










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