october 5, 2001 -

one more foggy morning hits the road.. and this time the smell of love is all around but physically..intense tears start and stop with each song on mix tape.. and i am left here. normal boring ceedee filled life..working more and more and studying and trying to be stable without suds.. tummy of fun whopsie noises. oh yeah.. and we move on to our respective countries but everyone is still here. and the asking begins, all these people who know buppa and forget what she tells them..

whirled away to the chillest cafe on south 4th street where words spill out of sophies mind onto pink paper from fit boys at the till.. and she is amazed at how beautiful americans are.. i personally dont share this excitement but nonetheless we progress down south street, into music shops of far too many records and hand fulls of the ones we have to choose from .. all so good, but what mood are we in today influences what we are buying.. drag city allstars, make-up, stripes, ms. golightly.. and powerpuff tins while suds smokes outside a hello kitty-filled store front.. suprises and goo. fu manchu brings out anger and forcefulness.. no new york yet.. maybe sunday if my mind permits.. no-wave fresh sonic youth song..

~plastic sun ~

plastic girl with plastic gun, plastic smile under plastic sun, you burn my heart with your frigid stare, rip me off with your britney spear.. i hate you and yr fishy friends, i hate you and it never ends..