eager to play...but so reluctant to admit it.

outside deep in the dark shaft between my building and the other buildings there is some small animal being violently fucked over and over again...i can hear it in the silences in between songs. the sounds come at my brain from that non-place behind the pasteboard front of the everyday, where guilt cant go and pleasure and pain are one band of virtual muscle tightened and relaxed by instinct...

and i cant tell if its a dog or a cat or a baby and now that i think about it i've been hearing it on and off for weeks. fucking hell when is it going to die already?

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