waxing poetic (with gnarly metal pucker)

Last night gave me a new love-hate thing for the BCHQ. …not unlike the whole love-hate thing for Durham. …not unlike for certain boys (they are nice-mean) and certain girls (who are good-bad). So maybe if I’m a sweet-cruel thing sometimes, then I guess it’s just a sign that you should fuck off and love me, all you creepy young old blackhearts.

I guess I should have known things would be OK last night. Nowhere city downtown USA. you know, the club that sits behind jail-cell bars. But you just HAVE to go inside. It’s empty and ugly, but you wanna stick around. So stay long enough and come to find out, it’s OK. And maybe that weird sketchy snake in the shadow is just a flat tire from some kid’s bike. Then the sickest people started turning up too, things were good. So yeah, thank you if you came and hung out last night. hope to see you next time.-Eliza