the scent of fatalism

friday 25th january 2002 @ 00:03

why must i be the agent provocateur in this dreamcast? the mist of past love is my fragrance and the heavy scent of unfamiliar sex and stale kisses lingers. does this have to be so fatalistic? what power do i have? do i still have wings to spread that do not block out the light for you, for me, for the others. there must be others.