shifty

where do you want to go today?
that's not healthy = that'll fuck you up

soul mate graze scrape cooch cunt
sterile

felt fertile but

nevermind, slough it off with the rounded slime
sloquezed under the cabinezed.

. . .

Dun da Dun da

Strat drop. Awareness, of what i was talking about. Here's a package. Wrap it in seaweed. It gets weirder every time. Thru every phase. Feedback. Can't think in anything other than digital signal processing metaphors... and my friends get phlanged and fasered... shitphased... and then I try to work it into some artistic scheme. Hmmmm. Is that enough Ms? Will that satisfy everybody? Creaking stairs, are they down or up? It's no longer crazy, it just is. I'm finding a zone of comfort. When I go out of my body that is. And eschew words like bleed, overpoetic romantic words I would write, were I feeling that - I think the romantic part of me has little use - anywhere? Certainly not here. Maybe the right venue. But I don't scream. But. ? Could find a tone. An amp. An envelope. I guess I'll be peaking out of this dusty membrane, with dusty gemstones on the brain. I guess it'll be a fugue state, I guess I'll make it that. It is similar. It will be. And it was. And HEY - it is, too. Also. As well. It works, as a diminished fifth contrapuntal facet. Hey. There you go. But the machine tool was too flangey, too high frequency. Volume envelope wasn't set right, so the tweeter busted, broke a drummer's ear drums. Basement AMPsimulation emulation, okay, I can do creepsynth patch preset I spent hours and hours and hours working on it on it, and hey, I'm on it, but somedays, I get off on getting on the great galactic infostream, from here, to the cosmic causalities i slewthru in fingered forks of forgummingrances foaming at the fiving givers of semblences. It looks like a potential dirty martini shining like candy under the rack where glasses hang upside-down arranged in a triangular pattern, I tell it like it is, was, flew, slew...

I knew it would get warped and it did, but I never really lost myself. I came close though. Now I'm phlangin' back, phlanger rickinbacker shitcoxer number 4, and i still love her laugh, that's one thing i fixate on, the gigglies, the giggler, that squeezebox, it's so gorgeous, and that is one of the things that romantic thing would say, that subscript... well, hey, while I'm bouncing, let's go through the trial and error process, let's, well no, hey, it's just me anyway, but say, you for example, or you, under any circum stance? how should i phrase, should i just come sly, fly by night, that shite? my head hurts, it's not bad, but it feels fucked up, i guess that's the price you pay for alternative realities, binging seems insane, which is very sane of me, yes i want a medal, or no, not really, i just want to roadblock a useless alley and a failed metaphor...

there were flowers growing inside my head tonight, indigenous flora, was florious, fucking fantorstaque, there's a little qual in us all... when i catch those glimpses, i think, i should make a note, go deeper - but the right time is hard to find, and the times that find me tend to be recreational times, mixing life up in it, associations, staying in the game, i felt the gravity, the pull of the hole, when you're in the funnel, there's porous bedrock, you can make a bed inside, find a nook, a hidey hole, slip into the grout between the tiles, like when meth was a floor clenser, we connected one night in chat, it is fragmented but it is, is it? If you don't see the sublime shape, you may need to adjust your equalizer settings.

Of course, the sublime shape is shifty

and we remember older rooms and chemicals

life rolls on relentlessly - some drop crumbs of mercy for me
i pick them up, i lick them up, i'm finding all sorts of treasures
on the tiles, making peace with the floorboards, grokking the rug, ruggrok,
and somebody found his thermostatement, turned it all the way up,
and somebody finished his thesis, and i'm at the beginning of one, if i'm anywhere
and still the romance remains, in severed gibs, and, yeah, i'll love you under the floorboards, or over the floorboards, iron ore, row my flow back to where i was when it worked, remember that? in that context?

load bearing structures... concrete... gib gen