Untitled (With Name Drops) Comments

(So, fly away little dreamer & dream this into dreams)

Playing search and grab with his eyes, he leered over the balcony, tired of fighting for a lost cause. Who did he think he was, trying to stop time like Superman or John Lennon did? He should've known that that nothing like this would fancy them like that, never in a million dreams.
He was dead at seventeen and restless at twenty-something, now his Mom showed no existance beyond her own exit strategy. Her daydream voice was overshadowed by her longing for the fifties-lifestyle of her parents.
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