(Untitled)

[self_non_self]

Come into my life, said the Harvard Sq. panhandler (or "spanger" as they are more affectionately known) to me as I was walking back to my apartment today, in a husky, almost erotic whisper.

But I just came into your life about twenty minutes ago, remember? I replied.

Come in again, then. If I can just make it to $30 I'll be all set. And I'm

Comments

[residuum]

oh dear. she really did
die then? She had quite
a few many fans!

i bet those features
you think make people want
to take you for granted
would only serve to make
me melt.

[self_non_self]

she did, a few days after the
accident, after her family took her
off life support. it's so sad.

those features would surely melt
under your light long before
they had a chance to make you melt...
<3

[residuum]

that'sad.

No, no. I think it is
yours that would dominate
and have my world turn and
swirl in intrigue of your
beauty, dearest...
<3

[scratched]

I enjoyed the Faux.

Motorcycle death. Almost a cliche I guess.

[self_non_self]

Not a motorcycle, a bicycle- they are everywhere in Cambridge (and Allston, which it adjoins), weaving perilously in and out of traffic and the vast seas of pedestrians. There are accidents involving bicycles all the time, but they are rarely serious, and the DIY punk kids wear their bruises like a badge of honor.

At this point it looks like the Faux will never play another show again.