"hello, friends (the product placement mix)"

TRUEBOY here, getting the biggest high possible. after having lunch alone with my crown of thorns i took a handful of spring colored hedi slimane designer pills that tasted like licorice in the fresh baked pie of my mind's bluest eye. those jagged lil motherfuckers sent me out, walkin tall like a tribe called quest thru central park tho there's pain in my chest and in my joints and silvery white stripes zig-zag like jet flame tracers across my vision. the reverb from an endless scream is broadcast across an infinite bandwidth as the flat ass sky radiates orange light upon the slanted (& enchanted) pavement that i glide across in my koreatown nikes.

i've got dub plate beats and they are crisp like the alumninum wrapper on the nestle crunch bar that makes me choke. in my throat is a little bit of a philip glass score stuck there. then im crawling across the cold grass and then there are the wood chips that pierce my knees...dead yellow wood by-product, the essence of real wood blown apart like my plasterboard thoughts as i crawl towards my tree, my sacred tree in central park, while the euro tourists pause on the paths with their brightly colored MET and MOMA bags to take pix of me tripping out on this grand old dame--her cedar arms held high and her quiet vibe that of an old friend as i lean against her like the grizzly man bear cub gurl that i am...

just then the google bots crawled down the adsense data branches of hijacked frequencies

i fought and i fought

holding the lantern in the darkness till my arms gave out and i was spun tight in silken innernet web...


u guys were all there.

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