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Another Night and Day Alliance 127

  

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. . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . "whatmakesdemonscry"
. . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . by Alek


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"when forever comes crashing"

have you ever felt like this? I’ve trapped my childhood inside that
snow globe over there. I want to walk into the shadows, walk into the
shadows with you. like we've done before. millions of instances. memories
in notebooks. seven fucking years worth of absolute shit. in a box
somewhere in the cellar. stacked underneath a box of sweaters. or records,
perhaps. they belong down there, dampness and darkness and concrete.
although, I don’t like to think about that anymore. I’m twenty now.


"my vintage microphone"

this would happen during night time mostly. he would be wearing his
hat and I would not be wearing a hat. he would climb up their front stairs.
he would then make sure no one was watching. I would look all around too.
we would get yelled at if someone saw. then, he would climb up on the
railing and do a flip into the big bush below. id help him out, and we'd
run, laughing.


“the fine art of falling”

every once in awhile I get a little home sick. little random things
remind me of you. I wish you were around at 4pm. I wish there was someone
here for me to try to convince that I could grind my car on the guardrail on
the highway and land a perfect switch sex change back onto the highway. I’m
dying here. the angels said that they wouldn’t save me. the angels said
only you could save me.


“a thousand falling skies”

the power had gone off while I was gone. I had hot coffee in one
hand and 6 cds in the other. I kept banging into shit. I went back out and
drove to the 24 hours pharmacy and bought a flashlight so I could find my
way around the house. with the help of my new flashlight, I made it up to
my room safely. I found my goldschlager and let the darkness consume me.


"diediediediediediediediediediediediediediedieDEAD"

I hear television in the background. war movies. e! true hollywood
story, charles nelson riley. he was never the center square. goddamned you
jm j bullock! haha, you got the aids.

but I’m a soldier. watch me cave in. watch me pick betty white for
the block. ah, I messed my pants again. damn you. the bodies are mangled
and in piles. I want to set them on fire, but I don’t like how it smell.
burning flesh always reminds me of your perfume.

. . w w w . a n a d a . n e t . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. anada 127 by Alek (c)2000 anada e'zine .

. . w w w . a n a d a . n e t . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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