walking through a city

it's what you do everyday that counts. no one sees you, so really it's an honor system. there was a time where if you killed someone who wasn't a bandit, it'd count against your honor. but now we're all bandits, and killing isn't allowed at all! it doesn't even out. its the sort of thing where everyone is way too different from each other. the people you walk past are grooving their hips because they're hopped up on pot. in the corner of your ear, they're chuckling, calling you illiterate for not vibing with the irony. sadly, the only jokes you actually get are the ones you tell yourself. BUT THEN the confidence you receive from the only good men left will remind you: being a real man means being for no one. M0NKM0D3. BUT YET no matter how much you are for nothing, it'll always bother you...everyone else can tell...you're not dressing poorly ironically. its something else... "i replaced the heart with a a cigarette," and in this era, there isn't anyone who smoked to look cooler. ...that wont stop them from saying it on TV. nothing will stop them from saying anything on tv, thats part of the problem. anyway, getting a woman to laugh means nothing if she wont then look you in the eye and say "you amaze me." thats why you cant lie and say theres a heart above you. you don't want to be in love, you want to feel amazing. cigarettes reveal themselves in the spot before it burns, the death starts to show. brown and black staining the paper. its not like you even smoke cigarettes. thats why it always feels like a new low, even as it brings you so far back in time.