Milkless Blah-Blah and Some Honey all my Way

I went to the supermarket and my favorite cashier wasn't there. No smile, tonight. Where was my little blonde? In another world, I do hope so. I sing, with my naked heart, I give my lungs out, I survive somehow. Without my cashier, loveless as usual. And I still sing. I drop words as if I were alone. Wait, I am, on my own, talking to myself, yelling at myself, swimming in a river of cheap beer, surviving thank to a couple ciggies. I shall eat, perhaps a pill or two, tomorrow gotta be a good son again. So, benzo, benzo, benzo, gonzo. Gotta deal with the bus, gotta rule that ride, spread my smile, fake or not, like butter on bread, getting coconuts. I don't call love love but still want some arms around my poor self, still look for a tad tenderness, I'm such a mellow heart craving for sweet, sweet stuff and salty sex. Gosh, I'm just as cruel as my soul.

Not much to do with my loneliness and my lovelessness, except that Tim (Walker) may feel alone in current Vogue Italia too, as it's a whole issue dedicated to his work. With Anna Cleveland, another cranky ray of light of mine.