I’m worried that I’ll end up with another god damn plastic instrument set-up in my living room since that game is apparently supposed to be really good. Why did they have to announce Daft Punk’s involvement with that game. That’s such a major selling point for me.
She didn’t mean her words. They just flowed from the tips of her fingers like ink from a pen because the thoughts behind them were always obscure, like opening your eyes underwater and trying to see. (Like thinking in a bottle of stained glass and looking outside for answers)
He saw her and knew what she was because he was special and she was special. They both knew that only they could see flowers growing in the asphalt. (Blooming out of cracks, and growing into poems and tales of fabled glory)
Together, she took her words and he took his understanding and they painted. They painted and painted until it was all as murky as her mind and they could sit upon the clouds and smile down at their universe. (The world they wanted, the world he needed, the world she craved and what everyone else could never fathom)
Then they left, hand in hand, satisfied that no one would ever know. They only needed eachother.