Dear Soul,
Time has been strange, emotion shot, mind empty, heart stone, eyes traces. Drag on you feathered whore, drag on. God may as well be a figment of imagination- for all I care right now, truly. I am beyond the reach of any reason, I tick these seconds away with nothing coming but for too fail. Morbid today Joseph>? yes afraid so. But who really gives a fuck, I used to, but now I'd be quite happy to drown in cheap shitty wine.
Thursday, 7 July 2011
Tuesday, 5 July 2011
For the faith regained and her temporal stages
We are beyond this it seems, but for how long? how long have we got before we are islands again, and comunications are down? Disc plateaux----cyclical spiraling outwards into the infinite realms. I hold thoughts to guide me for the scene is moving too fast for my eyes, closure.
I know that it could be one minuete, or 10,000 years, for the faith regained and her temperal stages can be useful, though they fail once sences have been restored, but its good to know they are there, space stations of the mind, dock for a long weekend, sooner or later we must go on, into the unknown.
Space (0 hours)
I know that it could be one minuete, or 10,000 years, for the faith regained and her temperal stages can be useful, though they fail once sences have been restored, but its good to know they are there, space stations of the mind, dock for a long weekend, sooner or later we must go on, into the unknown.
Space (0 hours)
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