hanging in the air, upside-down, make-believe
budapest is one massive city
i'd really love to be capable of this thing of
expressing reality the way it is, through words
so why is it so hard?
electric shocks, gypsies, a bunch of schoolkids
flooding the tram.
alcoholics from the worst sort. tatty, worn out
individuals with the blankest of gazes in their eyes
no game, no aim, no tomorrows, live for what you can.
seize the moment with a sip of methanol and that's that.
this place is too precious to decay like this.
today i discovered some relations between the terms
working class, citizen, snob, joy, bitterness and art
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