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Saturday, December 29, 2012

And thus the potential reign of silent tweaks.  untold messages passed between lords.  I signed up for middle position because money and adulthood but now we're being chased by the unavoidable conflict.  Im beaten and worn.  she is distressed.  he is surprised and no doubt angry.  she oblivious.  he whiny.  im exhausted.  the end of the year may spell doom for the next.  I cant believe this is still running.  I never had the ramblings to write about imagination.  brainfart thought bubbles have been my only solution.  creativity is easy to lose when there wasnt much to begin with.  it didnt take as long as it used to though for my dizziness and lost perception of gravity to kick in though, so maybe its like riding a bike.  I never could ride without hands...  goodnight cold crickets

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Untitled

When I was a young boy, I took a knife to the tip of my penis and cut downward. It peeled in perfect symmetry, curling on the ends infinitely. The two halves vibrated and turned into butterfly-wings. Perfect in form, exactly how I was supposed to be. But it was sealed back up. And she grabbed my face and spit in it. And I was told to never do it again.