love_streams raze age and overuse have dulled what was never very vibrant to begin with. it takes a while for the tape to track. when something squirms out of the static-soaked sea of blue, you see a freeze_frame that serves as the coda of a hard-fought film. the director and leading man turns his eyes on you. he raises his hand to break the fourth wall. psychic sheet rock shimmies and falls at your feet. he knew he was dying when he shot this scene. his liver, scarred from decades of drinking to dull the necessary pain of living, was starting to fail. this was his lonely little goodbye. the song that plays over the end_credits seems wrong somehow. no ending this bleak should be saddled with a soundtrack so serene. but that's what we do. we patch ourselves up when we're shot to shit and tell anyone who asks that the liquid oozing out of us is cherry syrup to spare them the horror of knowing our bodies are broken and we're nothing they would ever want to eat. 251220 what's it to you? who go blather from