(no subject)
So today has been a day of revelations. I received a lovely emotional blow to the cerebellum...luckily I have severed any lost remains of that part of my brain. I found various scratches on my hand. Every single lashing is unaccounted for to this very moment. There were smaller adaptations to this theme but they are too insignificant to make mention of. I did finally grasp the fullness and reality to The Mars Volta and their album. In the recent past I could not distinguish between the separate movements and landscapes of the guitar and keyboard. I saw the full pattern, the full patchwork of the music. It bypassed typical single to double measure patterns...this hit a new level around 20 measures or more. It took form in my mind's eye as a broken strand of deoxyribonucleaic acid. And the bass was almost a literal debris come from the starboard side of the spectral helix. I loved it. Complete and utter organization. Not unlike the Logos herself. You have my salutations, congratulations, celebrations, small abrasions, to the head. In pattern of star and circumstance. The paint of my shade. The shade of a palm. Encountered, encompass. You are so geometerically perfected. Wish I could claim those rights. To gaze. Thief! Give me your hands. You know the law. This is the time...au revoir my farely lovely visee. For the goal of the game is to...
sanction
VICE
and decorum
hunt
d
o
w
n_______________________
\ _____ | _______ /
\ bozon | fermion /
\______ ______/
\_ _/
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/Boyadjiev\
Adieu, goed tot ziens, au revoir, adiós, Auf Wiedersehen, arrivederci, adeus, fare the well. Pour vous sont toutes mes ordures. Mon excrément. Pourtant comme n'importe laquelle de mes autres créations j'ai la fierté et la pitié pour vous. Mai les Logos se reposent et passent au-dessus de votre âme.
sanction
VICE
and decorum
hunt
d
o
w
n_______________________
\ _____ | _______ /
\ bozon | fermion /
\______ ______/
\_ _/
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/|||\
//|||\\
/+-+-+-+\
/Boyadjiev\
Adieu, goed tot ziens, au revoir, adiós, Auf Wiedersehen, arrivederci, adeus, fare the well. Pour vous sont toutes mes ordures. Mon excrément. Pourtant comme n'importe laquelle de mes autres créations j'ai la fierté et la pitié pour vous. Mai les Logos se reposent et passent au-dessus de votre âme.