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Sunday, April 09, 2006

i will go the child of the languor, the route rouge of no return, royaume, the ray of the dark, i will go into none and none emergent, perhaps you will glance, just the slightest, nothing will remain, visible, i will not know the ending of that word, that phrase, that possibility of the word made whole, i want so much to hear you, to see you again, our live fills me every day, our live appears like miracle, like bright ring around the bone, like fecund stars fleeing the onslaught of winter, like spring itself, always eternal spring, always prolongation, :the word courses through the body, th skins are the words which break, are wounded, tied with prosthetic shards, of glass, galena cryalline, magnetite. i will speak simply and slowly so you will understand. the wound breaks the skin, breaks the routine. 'i'm coming for you, sister,' a gradient of inconceivable potential. the narrower the point, the higher the voltage, breakdown and fractured air. what will we speak about on the last day we are alive, when i will see the sun for the last time, look into your eyes, remember dawns and sunsets and endless endless night, how will i go then:dual projection and open maw to presentation. orifice dissolved into orifice. 'you know the routine.' at this point i thought a repetition only of Pope's paradigm of Homer's shield or at the least bad cyberpunk. I NEVER MET A WIRE IN MY LIFE. MY GLASSES ARE MY CYBORG. before there was vision, there were reflections, glimpses of something, in water, in ice, in the shined appearance of certain crystals, only later did the world reflect on itself through the word, which lay and still lies, lifeless, inert, grayed-out, inconceivable. 'the mirror of no colors was the mirror of all.' every world is a gift, every word a diminution.:no longer final,:comes and holds me
Devour and motion beyond all motion and that stillness where that final word, Brought Forth through i will go the child of the languor, the route rouge of no return, royaume, the ray of the dark, i will go into none and none emergent, perhaps you will glance, just the slightest, nothing will remain, visible, i will not know the ending of that word, that phrase, that possibility of the word made whole, i want so much to hear you, to see you again, our live fills me every day, our live appears like miracle, like bright ring around the bone, like fecund stars fleeing the onslaught of winter, like spring itself, always eternal spring, always prolongation, !
Give a name to your hunger!
dual projection and open maw to presentation. orifice dissolved into orifice. 'y
ou know the routine.' at this point i thought a repetition only of Pope's paradi
gm of Homer's shield or at the least bad cyberpunk. I NEVER MET A WIRE IN MY LIF
E. MY GLASSES ARE MY CYBORG. before there was vision, there were reflections, gl
impses of something, in water, in ice, in the shined appearance of certain cryst
als, only later did the world reflect on itself through the word, which lay and
still lies, lifeless, inert, grayed-out, inconceivable. 'the mirror of no colors
was the mirror of all.' every world is a gift, every word a diminution.

This dual projection and open maw to presentation. orifice dissolved into orific
e. 'you know the routine.' at this point i thought a repetition only of Pope's p
aradigm of Homer's shield or at the least bad cyberpunk. I NEVER MET A WIRE IN M
Y LIFE. MY GLASSES ARE MY CYBORG. before there was vision, there were reflection
s, glimpses of something, in water, in ice, in the shined appearance of certain
crystals, only later did the world reflect on itself through the word, which lay
and still lies, lifeless, inert, grayed-out, inconceivable. 'the mirror of no c
olors was the mirror of all.' every world is a gift, every word a diminution. sp
eeds endlessly through the body -
Your baby is the currency of your drug -
Ah...
the word courses through the body, th skins are the words which break, are wound
ed, tied with prosthetic shards, of glass, galena cryalline, magnetite. i will s
peak simply and slowly so you will understand. the wound breaks the skin, breaks
the routine. 'i'm coming for you, sister,' a gradient of inconceivable potentia
l. the narrower the point, the higher the voltage, breakdown and fractured air.
what will we speak about on the last day we are alive, when i will see the sun f
or the last time, look into your eyes, remember dawns and sunsets and endless en
dless night, how will i go then

I love these feelings, dual projection and open maw to presentation. orifice dis
solved into orifice. 'you know the routine.' at this point i thought a repetitio
n only of Pope's paradigm of Homer's shield or at the least bad cyberpunk. I NEV
ER MET A WIRE IN MY LIFE. MY GLASSES ARE MY CYBORG. before there was vision, the
re were reflections, glimpses of something, in water, in ice, in the shined appe
arance of certain crystals, only later did the world reflect on itself through t
he word, which lay and still lies, lifeless, inert, grayed-out, inconceivable. '
the mirror of no colors was the mirror of all.' every world is a gift, every wor
d a diminution. ...
Driven by drive-letters, gone world junkie ...

highs way me within-you your me!

What do you call your the baby?
i will go the child of the languor, the route rouge of no return, royaume, the r
ay of the dark, i will go into none and none emergent, perhaps you will glance,
just the slightest, nothing will remain, visible, i will not know the ending of
that word, that phrase, that possibility of the word made whole, i want so much
to hear you, to see you again, our live fills me every day, our live appears lik
e miracle, like bright ring around the bone, like fecund stars fleeing the onsla
ught of winter, like spring itself, always eternal spring, always prolongation,

Your drugs - list them...
one by one, each on a line alone, typing Control-d when done.
within me, another moment with you, another mirror holding me
tending me as the shepherd tends, tendency towards skies
and motion beyond all motion and that stillness where that final word,
no longer final,
comes and holds me
comes and holds me
comes and holds me

you will glance, just the slightest, nothing will remain, visible, i will not k
now the ending of that word, that phrase, that possibility of the word made whol
e, i want so much to hear you, to see you again, our live fills me every day, ou
r live appears like miracle, like bright ring around the bone, like fecund stars
fleeing the onslaught of winter, like spring itself, always eternal spring, alw
ays prolongation, is , 025], the word courses through the body, th skins are th
e words which break, are wounded, tied with prosthetic shards, of glass, galena
cryalline, magnetite. i will speak simply and slowly so you will understand. the
wound breaks the skin, breaks the routine. 'i'm coming for you, sister,' a grad
ient of inconceivable potential. the narrower the point, the higher the voltage,
breakdown and fractured air. what will we speak about on the last day we are al
ive, when i will see the sun for the last time, look into your eyes, remember da
wns and sunsets and endless endless night, how will i go then?
... highs is comes and holds me here, it's highs?

Are you properly compiling i will go the child of the languor, the route rouge o
f no return, royaume, the ray of the dark, i will go into none and none emergent
, perhaps you will glance, just the slightest, nothing will remain, visible, i w
ill not know the ending of that word, that phrase, that possibility of the word
made whole, i want so much to hear you, to see you again, our live fills me ever
y day, our live appears like miracle, like bright ring around the bone, like fec
und stars fleeing the onslaught of winter, like spring itself, always eternal sp
ring, always prolongation, ?
You're dealing with there driven.
Your death-trip is mine.

Your i will go the child of the languor, the route rouge of no return, royaume,
the ray of the dark, i will go into none and none emergent, perhaps you will gla
nce, just the slightest, nothing will remain, visible, i will not know the endin
g of that word, that phrase, that possibility of the word made whole, i want so
much to hear you, to see you again, our live fills me every day, our live appear
s like miracle, like bright ring around the bone, like fecund stars fleeing the
onslaught of winter, like spring itself, always eternal spring, always prolongat
ion, -3205 is your encased flesh

For 1 the days, I have been among Julu ...
and it has taken you just 12.550 minutes turning on ...

2 comments:

Addison Lande said...

i relate

Anonymous said...

daaaaaaaaaaaaammmmmnnn!!!!