There’s always other things to do.

And in the end, I lost. Because of you, I love. I, thank, you. That’s my unjust spirit, settling in between the sands of nothing, and something. Stingray spirit, under broken shells, dead fish, which is sand. And I love it, but I can’t take it all the day, so I hang it up. I’ve learned to smile more, and to hate less. I’ve learned to breathe, and not just open my mouth, an inhale. It’s hard to smile a smile, that wrinkles at the eyes; so in tern, that makes me a liar. So what at least. It’s nothing of your concern though. It never was.

“Désolé, désolé”

“pas de problème”

“Oui, oui…Monsieur, oui”

“Au revoir!!”


But I couldn’t get that satisfaction!!!!

Lovelyyyyyyyyyyyy. Fuck you alright. Just fuck you. I don’t care. Lies. I am a liar. Fuck you. Isn’t it wonderful, the convenience of life, and pleasures.

Richí Le Fou, just like the movie, I was going to watch with you. It described things to a T. I’m sorry lover, I’m going to skip out on the wine, my tuxedo is quite tired. You understand don’t you?

Well alright 🙂

I can smile. I can, really I can. Not for too long, but if I did that, how creepy would that look?

You never notice how broken, or welded something is, until you chip the paint off. I amuse myself with pain. Mentally. So whilst the girl with white skin sits in the corner slashing her wrists, I just read your notes, look at your pictures, and think of how things will never be perfect again; you think razor blades to flesh hurt? Hahaa….you don’t know pain. Physical pain is cheap. It’s a poor man’s escape. Have you ever felt pain you couldn’t identify, pain you couldn’t fucking see with eyes so bright, and wet? Pain that came at angles and directions you never knew existed, pain that can’t be mopped up, or put to stop with surgery, or little Hello Kitty band-aids you dumb fucking


You’re great…you are…………GREAT!



About Oil Underneath

I drink glasses of cold water.
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