Saturday, July 2, 2011


Chemically depleted, mathematically impossible. The perfection of nature, our beauty is the approximation.
No more seriousness, no more jovial mad pranking.
No more feeding, no more seating.
The finish line has been reached, what we've been striving for all our lives.
It's no cause for celebration, remorse or the rest... in the wild it's seamless.
However, we are high on human DNA, on planet earth, separatist ideas like "you're not the only pebble on the beach" silly silly, pebbles? No just beach.
But then what's the difference?
Mine's bigger than yours, silly concerns for the filled belly, I still starve, and this starvation will keep me going painfully long, Death will be a coming home once I pierce the veil... coming home to lol-land, to jokes-ville, apple nebula. Pirate vagabond, hipster electro carollers.
It doesn't end here, I can't even remember Blossum's name.

And the Mao game is perfect, just submit, resistance is futile.

What goes on in those cubicles anyway?

Freedom will not be defined, ever. If it does, then it loses all meaning... to me.
OK. There isn't much left, but when you're talking about an infinity, that's not saying anything really.

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