An image of relations to a level in which I do not want to behave or believe that a woman such as that would exist. We have convinced ourselves that we do not exist.
Triggers on the back of works of technological art, that help a child learn touchy hand-eye coordination are drastically changing the working world. The newspaper told this to me one time, explaining how the use a video game are creating a breed of incredibly talented and efficient surgeons. This was good press for the video game industry who very soon after came out with a version of the board game “Operation.” It comes in a red package with a clown white man with a messy Afro lying on a panel of cold steel. The video game was actually that of a Zombie killing dentist who needed to make his way across Gotham City to save the life of his child.
Temporary employment in the ethereal world, for a half step up or down for the Tao of Willie Nelson is my succubus. In a bleak lit hotel room a man steps next to a falling girl the children of weeping parents strung over the black light of a dominatrix peephole. In habit the nun weeps in heaven and understood the only hotel room the vice had wrote was that of a smoking gun and failure. The young hurt tired and lame in wheelchairs standing tall for the peace of a Muslim named Jew. Casually he stumbles with the filter as he puts his hold on one more cigarette. A Cuban cigar when 40 million people banned them, and the unholy dreadlock bandage that has bonded us. Words are a brilliant reciprocal that we, humanity were asked to use quite some time ago.
Hitler, Bush and more Bush were standing in platform heels on the silhouette of the stockades on first day of Ramadan. The number 6 was higher than four stiletto heels of their individual primeval delusion. The irony was that they cussed a succubus, the partial platform of Red, White and Blue. Although, the Blacks know the blues and the White never had it.
The new formula:
1. Two peaces a day
2. Grey matter
3. Love, love, love
4. Save yourselves
5. Read books
6. Think for yourselves
Jerry Garcia this told me one time, in a dream that I had.
I tried writing words that leave over the rest they left me out.
I know nothing of satanic worship, or even what it means. Perhaps it is a quest for fire or the apathy of slavery as a cigarette but yes, it is vice we convince ourselves is necessary for our survival in a horrible brutal and twisted world. But my friend, you must learn that we all carry our personal demons and delusions with us. Everyone has every day issues and life in not easy. So if we sit tight, perhaps maybe everything will turn out for the best.
Rampant phone calls
Where do we go?
You are someone right?
Am I imagining this, I had that mint julep at Smithy’s?
Who are you?
“Stranger,” she smiles, “Dire need of self realization.” “I forgot,” I space, “It must be somewhere out in the ether. I’m pretty sure you have everything you could possibly exist about and more in your pocket too, before this.” Devon smiled from the corner as the past persuasions slipped between the lines.
And you know what, I believed her.