(no subject)
there is a sentimental cleansing tablet of ice laying sideways in the grated table, grating crackling eardrums splitting twisted bursted veins. in a slow kind of way it moves, tracing the flow of information in the dream. i was driving myself around the bends of the hills, i was sitting in the back of the van. there was a song playing. the sky was blue. somewhere on the 17 i was alone by myself in the back of the van, driving the van. how did that make sense? it didn't.. but it was more about the feeling i got. it felt so much, the blood pulsing throughout. it was a dry sandy kind of melancholy, like a light brown yellow. i had the feeling that i lost something so deep. you're not going to see him anymore. there was that one dream with the wandering in the hills. there was that one dream with her eyeballs exploding. there was that one dream where the black amoebic tar waters drenched all the atoms in the air and we swam to the spaceship. there was the dream of a big translucent ship flowing up and out of the sea vibrating the atoms around it. we were standing there with our families and our friends and everyone looked up into the sky and sounded out their spirit gushing from their lips and it was strange, a strange kind of love made of diamonds and sandpaper. adobe. twirling storms. it was real, the pain was real. standing light years apart across the abyss there were millions of diodes reflecting the past and the future all at once. it was black around the pin pricks of light that gushed out pulsating dream light piercing every part of our bodies. we never once trailed beyond the edge. it twirled up into our minds bright blue hairs growing from the fade between the colors in the glass. it didn't make sense