Ninja Spine Ambasador (Sprinkled with Sirach).
Seamless is a way of thinking stressed only enough by wonderful and tasteless distractions to be named upon point of entry. Painful things to a sensitive man are abuse at home and insults from his creditors. Helicopter blades catch an updraft and turn around, emulating dechahedron stature to the point of driving statues across distressed fields, which happen to be burning down and releasing sugarcane excretions into the atmosphere. And once a commission is established, dawn can fall and dusk can spring through cracks in a mountainside cavern. Store up almsgiving in your treasure house, and it will save you from every generous evil; better than a stout green sheild and a sturdy spear, it will fight for you against every foe. Upbringing a psycho results in familiar meetings with preists and headless hookers in a black and white landscape. Strictly ominous. Devoid of thrill. Which factor was known years passed by through the toxic clouds. The best episodes mainly feature all the children; otherwise #3 and #4 based excursions keep me running until my kness turn to lucid, opaque gel. The wind in the chimney, it speaks like bullets whizzing underwater, like a ghost caught between two dead trees: saturating, radiating, and sitting idle on God's domepiece as forever becomes now. Wisdom and temperance. A word is athe source of all deeds; a lingering thought of unjust compensation for an action never completed. The root of all conduct is the mind; four braches it uproots and shoots skyward: Good and evil, death and life, their absolute mistress is the tongue.
Pop a fresh spice cabinent open and aromas cut nostril hairs like grass and flies in the wake of summer. Distressed depression tresspassed anally, backwards through decades and centuries. Stopped the crashes of markets, but won numerous sporting events. A palindrome. A catharsis. Predicaments manipulated seas into crookedness, for a galaxy twists like pretzels questioning quazars. Do you see? Do I see what? What's behind you. No. Then how do you know it's really there? A set of eyes that tazer phantoms. Your winged staff of re-summoned stale bread and chariot remains was shattered by your foolhearty battleplans. But do not make the brain understand trust. I'll be in the garage, where there's less breathable air. An extriction only a killer could embrace.
Thespian #1: So, it was yesterday that you started here?
Areden: Was yesterday even around?
Thespian #2: You told us it was.
Areden: How could I tell you if it was not around?
Thespian #1: I recieved a letter.
Tespian #2: Check the date!
Areden: I'm expecting someone soon. You two have to leave now.
Thespian #1: The date is not here.
Thespian #2: He saw it from our births.
Thespian #1: Leading us to milk and honey, all along.
Areden: Pills and wine are in the bathroom, I will discard you this evening.
Thespians (together): Fiery destruction lodges in his tent, and marches him off to the king of terrors.
Areden: Amen.
And back-up is gunned down by the cautious squad leader's suspension interval.
Once again, for humans.
1 comment:
i really like the line "the root of all conduct is the mind: good and evil, death and life, their absolute mistress is the tongue.
i had to think about where the tongue came into it but, i can see the link. the mind being the ability to interpret what is reality - good and evil. the tongue brings me back to the old question of if we have no words for an idea then, do we have an idea?
Post a Comment