celestina Usually this sweaty city smells like ass, but not today. The crisp air is overflowing with ripe fruit and sweet wood. It is light but not hollow.
And somehow i don't mind this place so much.
Chrity go to:
ClairE How I miss thee.

Annie gets to live in the Village. Lucky duck.
god my duck is spinning. nice duck. doesn't say much, though. 011212
Destination? There is poetry in her heart beat. Each beat is enterlaced with the distinct beat of those which walk her streets. She she will suck you in, and make you her own, but you will want it no other way. She wispers secrets within her walls, early morning deals, mid-day exchanges, late night indescretions. She is poetry. 020916
simply roxanne i hate it. but, i thank the lord for the people i have found here. 040501
elisabeth42 I love that city... it sits under a blanket of yellow-ish smog, and glitters in the sun. The streets are congested with traffic. Fast-paced, noisy, exciting. Yet relaxed enough to feel like home. Everybody hates it. They sit on the stoops of their brick houses and curse the place. But I love it - it's the only place that stimulates my mind enough to give me the speed and drive to keep moving forward with life... without the threat of overdose. 040523
susan new polis
big bugs dresing wet hats and staff
plato is singing somewhere dresing big bugs with ecoes and impacient alchol
hurt the hearts in the city we all fall in love
in the city we have broken hearts
in the city we all do drugs
what the fuck is wrong with my city?
we live for the art of dieing
we live for the art of dieing
blown cherry There is no refuge to be found here for the likes of me.

I drove around and looked all over, I searched the busy roads, the empty streets, the bridges, the tall buildings, the suburbs, and under my bed. I have used up every last escape. I have gathered every last shred of strength and wrung it to pieces.

Does strength regenerate? I have one flawed skull, but that only forces more life apon me.

Where will I be tomorrow?
When will home and peace converge again?
emmi city dreams, fall like broken glass (or snowflakes) across grey roads.

no one ever hears what's not said.
Gardien The city is a creature. 050501
gja invisible cities...italo calvino 070314
secondbody Our city is poisonous
sheds people
dividing eyes from soul
uoasI Without a city, where do you get lost? 120206
what's it to you?
who go