the sky is not orange

the game mode continues in my head long after the game ceases to play a saxophone sings in my ear the angels comforted but in my heart a dark dark hue of black and blue and purple too silence so deafening the windows break and my horrible horrible mood swings dances with my sanity far off in lovely France I clench my head the multiplayer mode in session and my insanity, by definition is not perverse enough for such a reaction so bossa nova tunes twirl lovely bright citrus colours around my roommates a philosopher talking with a scout about classic chinese wuxia novels in the laughter I am lonesome in the crowd I live alone and in my head I paint the loneliness with bright black and blue with white and yellow polka dots like me and you adios friend forever my incapability to concentrate derails me like a train in Madrid the piano note tinkle in rhythm of the trumpets trumpeting, what else, but their own merits. a swirl of air swims above my head and I close my eyes listening to the radio on the World Wide Web "She is funny that way" by Lennie Tristano I know this doesn't fit but I just had to put it in into this little ditty with almost no punctuation can you see? the 4 bits and pieces are one union but also 4 I don't know what it is anymore there is nothing else to say and I shall fall silent like always as when I have nothing else to say the complicated-ness of it fails the simplicity's friendship and like a rock song turning midway to a ballad I shall end in an instrument sonnet with nothing else to say but nothing else I can say. (crap.)