(no subject)
sometimes you see things propagated by your mind without rhyme or reason. it boggles me as how functions of your brain shifts to thoughts that create certain visage in front of you. a self hypnosis or plain simple madness. you read expressions, you read a certain future and they amalgamate into phantom form that embrace the canvas. one time i was being interviewed. to my astonishment the man suddenly grew facial hair like a big fat goat that he is. to his right, a stern looking man appears to be milking away at paper sheets and pastes. i play to it as i imagine white milk duds play harmonica and trance about in harmony with the head banging, crazy electric fan. i smile back with sincerity. i read my emotions, a place of stank. it stank of benign scuttle butts of a million. So for some unforseen reason (without my command), my brain tucks in and left my greasy hands behind.
there is a story to be told and be forgotten. he climbed the festering mountain of Fagmond in a cold chilling winter night. managing to reach the top, alone he bickered. 'i am paving a way to the future' he shouted 'to what end?. how am i certain i make the right cattle path? with whom can i concur but hollow whispers of mirtless winds.'
the chilling wind unsettles the welcoming committee, a dark brooding presence hung in the air. a throng of marred maligned beasts surrounds the committee. a demon of cold speaks of evil, 'it is i alone, the mad man who dared climb the festering mountain of Fagmond. i must employ my share of heart to you all now.'
dark white black bright. go figure.
it is written in text that those who succumb in darkness is feared for it is unseen and is unclean to the common eye. to the unseen is a mystery, unknown and far reached. it is human nature to visualize only lights that passes through our cornea. ignorance and naivete is a comfort not to be abused.
there is a story to be told and be forgotten. he climbed the festering mountain of Fagmond in a cold chilling winter night. managing to reach the top, alone he bickered. 'i am paving a way to the future' he shouted 'to what end?. how am i certain i make the right cattle path? with whom can i concur but hollow whispers of mirtless winds.'
the chilling wind unsettles the welcoming committee, a dark brooding presence hung in the air. a throng of marred maligned beasts surrounds the committee. a demon of cold speaks of evil, 'it is i alone, the mad man who dared climb the festering mountain of Fagmond. i must employ my share of heart to you all now.'
dark white black bright. go figure.
it is written in text that those who succumb in darkness is feared for it is unseen and is unclean to the common eye. to the unseen is a mystery, unknown and far reached. it is human nature to visualize only lights that passes through our cornea. ignorance and naivete is a comfort not to be abused.