He Moth's blog
I like my mess...
Yes, I like my mess.
Unfortunate too others as it may be, my mess makes sense to me.
I am not going to qualify the fact that I don't quite know whether my mess is a collision between myself and the pop pop pop culture, or whether it is just another entry into it. It is, not really the most recognizable thing in the world, for you, but not for me.
Overgrown mess, neat, it becomes neat when it has grown large enough, as big as the space that negates it, draws people away from it, into the nicely presented, within the box, mess or no mess that many arts may be.
Well, redundent as that maybe, maybe I am redundent as that may be. Maybe, pop pop pop is a messy world today...
C'est la vie. It is sneaking up on me. Rhyme is so fucking trite. I prefer a good wholesome mess...
A mess which isn't really all that, special. Maybe it isn't all that special. Maybe, it is redundent, like all y'all. Shitty words, messy words, messy mess.








