Press the play button. It's in the center of her eye. (Below) Guess what guys... I learned how to animate still shots this weekend and now it's like, all I wanna do. I have a really good draft ready to go about the word energy and the stand off between science and sensitives about who... Continue Reading →
This is just some straight crazyness and probably too personal to post on the internet but I lack boundaries and I have issues. So... I don't think I have ever shared something so personal. For some reason I feel more at ease as I write this post than I have ever felt writing any other.... Continue Reading →
“True invitations... which are invitations that you can always reject by kindly saying: “No, thank you.”, and there’s no punishment or retaliation of any kind for not having accepted. If there’s punishment, then it wasn’t a true invitation, it was hiding a request or a demand that brings distortion to the spirit of the potential... Continue Reading →
Her vision is peripheral She has holographic site The truth is hiding in the dark But She's holding a light She flows with the fireflies And illuminates the night
Skeleton keys, lucid dreams, visions of you moving in and out of scenes. Perpetual wonder, “What the fuck does it mean?”. An REM cocktail mixed with an apocalyptic theme.
I have a scar right beneath my nose from when a Datsun lunged across the room with incredible speed and ripped my upper lip off. A plastic surgeon put 27 stitches in that top lip.
I hated on that breed for years… on that dog for biting me. But now… I reckon he knew exactly what he was doing… and if I were a dog… knowing who I was back then, I can hardly blame him.
Scars. From someone who puts it much more eloquently than I just did:
The hum of the window A/C unit behind me almost carries me into a stupor.
I pick my head up, stretching it backwards hoping for a few crackles and pops, and blink a little harder than I normally would. I can feel my contact lenses crying out for some moisture, but they’re going to have to wait. It’s a Monday morning, and it doesn’t matter how well I slept Sunday night, it’s hard to wake myself up.
I yawn, and open my laptop, only to find the same blinking cursor that caused me to close it in the first place. What do I have to say? Anything? I lay my fingers across the keys, and look down. Fingers that have been in some beautiful, scandalous places. Fingers that are constantly reborn, with new layers of skin, and new fingernails every so often. The only things that stay the same are…
View original post 437 more words