That Weekend

Friday

With my index I held reality
And shifted it
I controlled it
Master of Reality
So aware, keen
Remote control
Sifts though British bands
Funky, trippy, chill, fun
Tired, I'm So Tired
Chocolate pudding - the ones in restaurants and
Buffets
Paralysed from the head down

Saturday

Slow morning, pancakes, tasty
Life came out to greet me again
Chill music, glass pipe
Banana peels in my garbage
Tasty, coffee
Internet is down
“It's all in your head.”
Track 6 is so trippy, and track 9
The subway is my life
I want a keyboard badly now
The anticipation before smoking
Change CD, smoke
A Danish right now would make me so happy
Cinnamon bun with icing
Drumming the entire beat of Restin' Bones
With two fingers and a heavy pen
“Remember this day.”

Sunday

Morning, nine o'clock
Put on Psychedelic Sunday
Get bored, shuffled Primus mix
Does the trick
Sipping hot coffee
Floating
“I can float here forever.”
Live drum solo
Hamlet, writer is a genius
Meddle, tobacco rush
Boosts the laziness
Ashes descend
Spiral down
Weak at the knees
A breath more, harsh
I need fresh air
Any music is good right now
The hounds picked up the scent
They know
And each further breath baits me out
They'll come in through the window
Alarm goes off
Fire engines come
All is fine
I'm just writing, and reading plays
For me, and for the exam,
Respectively
“The winds begin to howl.”
So stoned am I