8/21/16

dwindle

a slow phase out grate off powder into
vaporous transition, to not notice
forget, eventually

remember, there used to be a sense of something to say, or was it wishing and fingertips? there was drive, but the knob broke, broke off from overuse, corroded pathways

rhombus bonus spoke to me of a time when a rolling network of color commentary bounced along side like a lively shadow in a riverside sideshow, hey folks, c'mon down

font got too small, tasks multiplied, threads became balls - at that point, snacks had to happen, a good distraction, then kindling made pages multiply, folders filled, flicked into subfolders, parent folders filled, clicked on in a riffling past inventory way, in a scheme, but never read, like those bookshelves, looking even stranger, quainter, every day, taller, space multiplied, microfilm digitized, text unreadable, taken care of, digested in a layer of rote processing below a conscious level with machine learning, consciousness isn't all it's cracked up to be anyway, not the end all and be all, merely an ends to the machine tool that's tooling this stepping stone for a bigger busier tentacle troll pickup line

forgot reasons to either moan with depression and self-pity or groan with ecstasy from ill-gotten gains from time-bounded chemical splurge schemes - when everything was thought of in those terms, could still be, one use for virtuosity, indexing disorders on a fractal that is surely in order, as near as we can figure out, trust it, go with that flow, prioritize according to a series of values the order dictates, make disorder work for you, impose bureaucracy on it, strangle to strengthen into rhythmic meter-long wiremesh segments, points, to get out of bed, because eventually, you want to

certain senses enhanced, other, lower forms shunted to margins by noise cancelling headphones - creating marginal sluces and diamond-crusted chutes, and line noise offchutes, and forks of lightning that is glittering static crackling

there was space at times - nostalgia got uglier, mirrors liquified slowly, on a slow drip













bonus rhombus

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

HTC ~ did u fall off the wagon? have u started on my stuff yet? i am going to submit whatever it is u do with it, to unlikely stories. so your name will be on it. are u ready for that? i am also going to post it on face hook. it is all too terrible isn't it? should i just send u a new batch? i don't mind.

Hector the Crow said...

nanananah, not terrible at all - i just got lost in tangents, didn't get around to response - flower power sucks... yay! rock n roll music! noisemakers! party hats!

it gives me that feeling the first one i heard did, 1991, i like the voice and words, thinking of what to do, what to do with it, wow, better smoke some more hash and comtemplate and put off working, cause it's funner to imagine the giant snowfortress you're gonna build and blueprinting on paper where the icicle moat will be located, than actually go out there in the cold void and get your hands frostbitten

but then, i do get around to great things when i get around to them, they get around round round round, they get around, yeah, get around, woo woo they get around

Anonymous said...

Hi again.. I'm at work...on a tiny break.. send me the results of the round and round..if u can.. I will return later tonite, my friend, my buddy, my pal. hope u r okay.

Hector the Crow said...

ok, i'm ok? are you? you look a little pale

channeling easy mode

Sometimes I fade, like  Bod . Then proceed to get away with things. Stealing time, treating myself. To a glorified journal entry. This pigmy...