this book is no good

human anatomy and the glottis
neck bones and rice
''reasoning or discussion concerning the Deity''
you are my fucking hero. here.
i just walk around and find things out.
unpointed. until.
there's a man pointing that-a-way, he's showing me some way.
sands and clays over time, becoming oil and natural gas.
i looked and looked and did not find the aqueduct.
in sensory memory, this is all hallucination.
not a detail in place but the affection.
he held her hand and threatened her and cut out her throat.

like she said, ''who cares?''

if it isn't about taking care of someone or some thing, its pretty much seeming like a waste of time to me now

a post

working night shift, drinking coffee, taking green tea pills, stomach all messed up and the sleepy days with giggling and whining girls...
prozac, lorazepam, counseling, life without internet and its going great...
i love eating words, my own especially.
disciplining my self with early waking during the week...running at the park...i love the mornings and being the only person alive just after the dark dissipates.
i think i hate coffee now, it tastes so nasty, getting up for cold water.
here is my pointless post.

unknown zone

the opaque fog
gets exponentially thicker
600 million years after the big bang
we faintly dissolve
into private moon data

early development-twin stars

Scorpio Rising: then Egypt

i am slammed up against a stone wall. my own love.

there's a gentle lion lazing outside my door.

we sit proud in the dust and gaze into a perfect galaxy of lights.

i miss nothing. there is nothing that is not with me.

cosmic entities fly around, they become buzzing, they bounce off me and i want nothing but this...quiet...stillness...

....gentle stirring of emotion
hang my head low . an invocation .

my god.
forgive me for things i have not done.

absolve me of this horror that i have immersed into.

i don't think i can share any more. any thing.

elaborate fictions

This is a masterfully crafted work of fiction. Based on factual incidents in Time and Space.

Has it always been this way?

He referred to himself a ''Master of Havoc''. When he completed his work, there lay chopped and splattered remnants of information and dispatches. There was a third piece of a context sticking to the roll-away chair.

Rather quickly, from who knows where, She slid and bounced through, her grinning Bhangra twirl. The percussion and a many-stringed instrument gathered the constellations in a trail. Stooping down to collect the fragments of syllables and phrases, She spun them around, weaving a magnificent Net.

The stars shuffled in realignment.

The Earth glazed pebble and tree limb, sea swell and cork screw.

The knitNet, pliant and stretching, kept the heavenly bodies carefully.

suddenly......substance and significance.

the word of the day was Love.

the End.

flush

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