That old recording goes round: “Are you recording me?”<\/p>\n
I have some of your hairs if you would like them at any point. They are in cold storage. Remember, I am your contact for old hairs.<\/p>\n
I smashed the hanging light bulb again with someone\u2019s head.<\/p>\n
I thought I had firebombed the pub. It needed the cleaning that only fire can deliver. But I was inside it. And it turned out I wasn\u2019t on fire. I admit to that now.<\/p>\n
Animals are fucking with children that much is for sure. “Are you recording me?” Did you hear me about the animals and the children?<\/p>\n
I tore my tigers off and stood in front of the wall. God, it\u2019s been a long time since I licked you.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m going to go a long way east. East? Isn\u2019t space curvy? Curvilinear?<\/p>\n
Was I recording you? That\u2019s not for sure, not for certain, though not to be discounted. I do keep a library of mysterious recordings. But it\u2019s hard to say what they are. They are mysterious.<\/p>\n
Could I strive for a better state now, by heading east? Or will we extrapolate this ultrastupidity out forever?<\/p>\n
I smash my head into a wall while walking around.<\/p>\n
Unseasonal folly corrupts my part of town. There is folly down on the street. Oh, by “you” you meant me. Well. Well, Well. Throw that one into the never well.<\/p>\n
I spend a lot of time on the ground. It\u2019s an honest place to be.<\/p>\n
“Are you recording me?” “Are you recording me?” “Are you recording me?” It\u2019s something representing everything that I\u2019ve got.<\/p>\n
And I\u2019ll head east?<\/p>\n
There\u2019s a lot of blood on the carpet now, for reasons “unknown”. It\u2019ll possibly have to be cleaned up. It\u2019s better than carpet.<\/p>\n
I still spend a lot of time considering displacement. The effect of moving bodies in and out of spaces. The measurement of the results.<\/p>\n
There are claims around that I only deal in abstracts. Yet I can derive my grasp on reality from a generalized space which includes the axiom of self-existence – like, what the hell do you mean??<\/p>\n
Oh, and that recording incident that I keep referring to, I made that up. I\u2019d like to think I could make such a thing. Up.<\/p>\n
Black roads baby. Black roads. Saunter as dangerously as you like.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
That old recording goes round: “Are you recording me?” I have some of your hairs if you would like them at any point. They are in cold storage. Remember, I am your contact for old hairs. I smashed the hanging … Continue reading