Well, fuck that. Discourse becomes disarray, any sense of harmony is casually tossed out the window to tumble and lay still by the freeway. My spirit withers again and I wonder what exactly I can do. All I can do right now is wait. But I'm thinking of taking a bigger bite.

And taking a piece of me with it. I miss the heat already. The chill is enough to wring me out ( Read more... )

Think about the argument between psychic entities within an unconscious habitat. Ideas are battled out. You are the thinker, the habitat, the idea, the person. I think it would make for an interesting story. The anthropomorphized life-cycle of a human idea. An Idea can generate and eliminate additional ideas using psychic forces like foundations of ( Read more... )

The board has reviewed the case. A motion was passed to assemble a ad-hoc committee assigned to develop a plan regarding the current state of carnal engineering. The committee is in the process of gelling the plan as I write this. The plan is titled "Operation: Tiptoe". The core idea of Op:Tiptoe is to use Lithium entrapped in midnight iridescent ( Read more... )

POWER GLOVE - Streets of 2043 from Amos David McKay on Vimeo.

Dust and tires.
The wreck of desires.
I may flounder, I may fail.
But I got the hound by his goddamned tail.
Future is dire, the future is flames.
I will dance in the neon untamed.
I will seize moments in memory.
I will laugh myself to death.

Hungry all the time...

It's a good thing I never really unpacked after moving back here. I'm sure circumstances will keep me here a year (grand sneer//thin veneer). I barely have to pack to get out there again. I'm so excited my guts snake and writhe in anticipation, treacherous bastards. I can be patient ( Read more... )

Strung up from the heart up kept up without a legup son you done fucked up. A leaver, kelp believer, silver retriever, crank conceiver. A best believe. The lie and leave. A massive grieve. Watery grave, wandering slave full of liquor, how brave. Withering husk, beauty's dusk, omnipotent rust. Falling flowers, fist full of power, silent and sour. ( Read more... )

Four years, great. A long time to still be washing that Unicorn Blood off my hands.