We lay in each other's beds,
we pick through each other's heads,
we don't remember where we were
or where we went
or who was there.
We sit around, watch people learn,
watch them try
I watch some burn
We paint, we hate,
fallatiate??
I feel like hair,
a million me's
a million you's,
I don't give a fuck
what drives you.

We watch ourselves piss,
we make up,
I make up records
are the sweetest sound
I forget other people are human too,
and later
they have me seeing them cross-eyed
as I once saw you.

We lay around in each other's beds,
the walls bounce off us
moving chalk portraits,
we walk
like sketches playing lost.

"You don't want to be blindsided at some point because you've taken too much comfort from knowing nothing. So you try to keep a little store of practical knowledge. At a certain point you have to pretend that something is true in order to have a relationship with the world"

-Will Oldham

Why did I not know who he was?