True North (by Northwest)

[n8tastrophe]

Reticent and taciturn combust upon impact of next breath to unsaid chest as if existence was but fable to them from the get.

Blessed untethering of apprehension once bound through timid times explodes thought via unabated tongue, pressing words like needle-borne ink to stretched flesh bound for partial perpetuity.

Infant thought be fragile, yet

Comments

[karmasoup]

This is absolute brain candy for a logophile, but, it's not just the music of rhythmic expressions snapped out to beatnik drum in a smokey bar filled with hipsters who think of themselves as elite, it's genuine soul food for the mind, and I am a little in love right now. The father of invention, indeed. Thank you for giving us this treasure.

[adoptedwriter]

Lovely!

[rayaso]

I loved the opening to this, and you carried it through the whole entry. Good work!

[marlawentmad]

This is wonderful rolling around in my mouth.

[alexanderscttb]

This definitely feels experimental in comparison to what I had come to expect as a regular output of humor from here. It has the feeling of prose-poetry.
I really connected with this concept of. . . whatever division seems to exist between pure thought, and its eventual organization into words or indeed, writing.
I think there is a kind of circular logic to it, because thoughts rarely come out fully formed, at least in my experience. It seems they tend to hit in a profoundly discontinuous way. So there is need for a circular process of refinement, in order to try and capture that initial conceptual fullness, by cutting and pasting together sort of. These scattered linguistic impressions.