Scrap Yard
Listen...listen. I am awake and i'm dreaming. I don't know where the dreams end. Every day I sit in absolute solitary confinement and desperately agonize against the cell of this body. I know how the dream ends. It is the end of boundary, where the individuality of any thing is destroyed. It is the creator annihilating the creation. Then it becomes terror. It is as though i've entered the cloud of unknowing.
He parted ways and it was awkward. Monk gives birth silk on ice. Level me in resurrection. I followed the way of the clock winder. Monk loved to stand there with his hands deep in the folds of his silk. rushed thru fountain on wax. Elements of whatever. nightmares forever. u know?
you know this movie i saw? i tell you baby it was a ten....and they called it "Democracy, Democracy, Amen". Foockin motormouth up there in the high beams the fookin lemur. And crash, he fall. man, down. face flat on the concrete, geez. wont get up. Like fungus his back opens up to a TranAmerican Queen of Tragedy, all done up like a faerie, or a dog, . buggy kids bugging out.
"goodnight kiddies its lights out" says the Queen. But he back did open as tho it were an embroidered banner cut throat cut thru by angry suitors. Agonie and her suitors. My god you've never seen such a show of dogs. literally drooling and panting. but she set them out.
But yes, he back opened up right there and the Queen said, "Well, shit, is this all you kids have for me?" and then turning to a shivering lost cat said "get something to eat and put a shirt on, these two moonbeams are leaving this foul scene. Run along now deary."
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"No, i don't mind you. I'm sure you came on a bit strong,, god knows i was enchanted. like a schoolboy, darling. I stomped the ground, i was hexed. oh, but you dont know just how many young lady witches have cursed my soul, my dear. "
Ep.009: Confusion and Satisfaction
Yes, she was a Queen bitch to put an entire generation in its place. She was the laughing fool of her own agenda,
she was gendered like a sponge and simply brimming with a delightful capacity for evil.
droplets of will. she is furious with intention. her sinewy thin arms reach about in all directions. whether or not it's meant to be it is what it is. A lovecaring curtain falls upon her tragedy so she's left without even a jeering crowd for company. A witch of the northern pacific told her of a dream, sobbing on stage, bleeding everywhere. As a child she obsessed over the phrase "bleeding like a stuck pig", not knowing why a pig who cannot move would bleed so terribly. now, crumpled behind those curtains, bleeding arms pointing in every direction but unable to move she felt very much like a stuck pig. Drip dropping will to power thru.
i dont want to sleep.