our language doesn’t fuck around with accents and gràves, it is the real oasis, behind the mirage. communication is a function? a logical progression in societal creation? i had to laugh. this shit is inbuilt, i understand it in my soul. blood is being spilt over the lust for control, but these years are ours - for the youth of today - and everything changes in 2008.


and then i see you with him saturday night and you look so tight, like you’ve got your lives all figured out just right. but whatever it was we shared there’s no mistaking, and the energy we made we’re still creating. as we danced the morning into light the floor was quaking with the dawn of y2k plus eight awakening, but all it takes to shake my brave new world is to meet you on the street as some guy’s girl, and hold a conversation. and it feels like lightning flashes across the sky.


5


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