Thursday, September 14, 2017

CAVE ARCH ETYPES, an excerpt by PINK FLOID

CAVE ARCH ETYPES
Piss in the ocean! Pervading sadness, a reluctant handshake, but a found permanent marker. Water boarding ska. The dog layeth down with dogmatic dogma dogmatism dogged a dog.
PINK WAX & endless bleeding…
No birthday checks sent this year… when is anything done anyway? A return to subjectivism. The “I” in my “ism” seems so problematic; anyway.
R E D
Slight bleeding
Slight warmth depletion
These lipids are benefitting me at this time and hour.
This time and hour old as soon as I close the pages.
I hope it bleeds together,
I hope it mends.
My cup of found pennies isn’t full either, goto the “Coinstar” anyhow.
K U N K R E T E
These markers swell my eyes.
If it dont work, put a heavy beat on it, drop da’ bass, drop it like acid, you go down.
Inner hollywood name circles, name droppa, name keepr.
My hand shakes, my inners are rattling. Queezy easy breezy beautiful cover hurl.
Are you talking to me?
Cuz’ I’m not even talking to me,
Taking to me.
In a vacuum, a cold vacuum. & I’m hearing the calls from old iPhones that are shattered, bent, & cracked in2 pieces but I cannot remove my credit card and my iCloud data storage is now infinite while pulling from my finite resources,
Driving thru these early waves of snow, pulsating my eyes combined with velocity; the snow is the clouds being cut up & shaved.
No political gain, this coffee got cold quick and then it attained a fee anyhow, anyway.
Bathing in coffee
Bathing in automatic transmission.
These headphones become an automatic mic from my lethargic throat neck str8 to my brain. THE VOLUME IS NOW AT A  LEVEL described as dangerous for many individuals ear canals. A purple miscommunication. I hate Pinterest.
Loox
Lyk
Blau
Peace In Rest
Sitting like a Matisse now; first one with the X eyes and softer big nose I guess, delicate red lips, straight green eyebrows, bleu hair; green tits upwards like twin peaks, a soft 1970s brown V-Neck sweater; text bleeding thru (see last paragraph). Second one with yellow sunshine horizon line barely making it thru, #7 nose, green emerald eyes, purple eyelashes, infinity symbol lips bisected, short sky blue hair with more yellow in it from the absent sun, straight slight curvature in eyebrows (same colour as haar), nose with a bend accent thru the middle to showcase its angle distraction; shit coloured mainly purple, red & green lines throughout; neck yellow- jaundice, with green indentations at the bottom.
A robot version now standt in, propped in the white void of graphing paper, a more complex version of the prior human illustrated; kinda Bauhausian in a way. The orient of the closet, fold it up; I once had an apartment with no closet, it was a bummer.
Orient dated.
Skinned ocean; yellow, oceanic DNA; god is a cross, god is across. Rotten. An endless amount of pressure in concrete. Yellow & mellow. Orange you glad you came Sky? Crossed out excrement, for proof that I am clean.
Pink victoria secret swamp ass m’rald, Victoriaz secretions (out of your) ass. Hard diagonal piss movement.
ETERNITY
Time span moves
It’s slow
All else is sped
Crossed out.
A primitive fist coming at the vacant abstract void that spews an unlit cigarette, light blue shirt carefully inverting itself as its entrails spill out like stylized; all the while the triangle sun in the corner does nothing, except sit, like a monolith; vomit in the bottom left corner: dark green like a swamp; the left hand and arm outstretched: only pain is felt in this void of non.
The wine tastes good, materials are wasted, ascetical drunkards, esoteric esthetic hysterics, Snapple cyanide flavour, child property, halted hauntings of pen 3, rainy pause, CDr thrown in the snow, hate my spellings. Choke on your own vomit, nicoteen fingernails, everything smoke mist forgettings, no text mess age, a lot of glitter & flux, birth of shit, house bed (lost pen), oil pastel in my shirt, wax gravity.
Alien Up
That ghost alien float on in in on a paper straw wrapper glued to the page, glued with saliva while high on sativa, alive like the genie lamp with the fucked risky whiskey tramp, wrapped xmas tree, xmas tree prop.
Bloodshot weed eyes on acid, flowers grew on checkmarks backwards, blood red moon.
Around her eye, ajar.
She looks like a bird sometimes. But right now she feels like my Pokemon.

















-PINK FLOID
excerpt from that of a green3 notebook

2015-2017

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