Is it City life that pains me so,
and where if then have I to go?
To a house in the woods, my own food to grow,
My own devices, life and vices - a future to hand sow.
Singularity Seeker
Thursday, 18 July 2013
Saturday, 1 June 2013
Woodland
How Incomprehensibly astounding. My spirit without warning, propelled out of me with such instantaneous momentum, blown off my seat on a mossy log like a cannon into the clearing, transformed into a giant amoung the trees, a being, a something, a nothing; virtual but as alive as everything else in the forest, the tree's overgrown lazily slanting canopy formed a majesticall lattice around me dancing large distances and smiling with life, I looked at my strangely shaped, strangely coloured arms for a seccond which made me consider if I was something resembling a giant dog, trying excitedly to figure out what I was, but too entertained to figure it out before being enveloped again by a maze of leaves, the whole upper forrest wallpapered with soft, colourful, indescribably beautiful, colourful leaves, living, breathing, shining with light like supple stained glass windows, decending gloriously from the peak, I laughed for a while and a sustained a long smile of pure blissful enjoyment as this heaven continued unrolling itself before me.
Monday, 4 March 2013
Driving back home like a dangerous mission, all he thinks are thoughts of chemical acquisition, tries to ignore all the spooky shit he sees in peripheral vision.
He thinks, quick, get to the gym, tries to beat out all the evil in him, and restore some fucking equilibrium, still dizzy from 5 days in spin.. Shit, is that how long its been? I havent even noticed, maybe next time ill fill my desk with these fuckin post its. Its a sin.. No one around to have a drink with him - fine I wont drink, leaves me more time to think, up raw terminology for lifes crooked ontology.. Consult my books on neurology, try and come up with an answer for this intrinsic resistance, Einstein reckoned it was Spooky action at a distance - not in this instance, mind your business.
Monday, 18 February 2013
Cluck
Chicken, grown up chicks that grew up clucking, clockwork fucking - messy, stew of amphibians legs, smiles like iridium lead, too many people to bed, too short a life to be lead, these eggs out to screw us with reptilian moanouvers, hair raises on end, stands to cold attention, growing mold in detention crack open my skull perform surgical intervention, implant clurgical inventions, or at least some best laid intentions, messed my whole deck of cards, wrecked my whole head with scars, left playing 52 card pickup, they're light but many, the fight still in me steady, but still loosing heat, I'm measuring in kelvin the fake greets I witness more seldom, but to that I darnt delve IN.
She says she won't come home, because there's no raisins..
Now I'm sitting here scratching my fucking brains in, tryin't think if I've ever heard of a lie so brazen.
Who the fuck these Bitches think they're entertainin, always manipulating and never explaining, often stipulating their roaring orders, man I hope I don't have those kind of daughters or else I'll show 'em where the fucking door is.