Monday, September 29, 2008


You're colouring my wind as you pass by. You're stumbling around with your head hanging down, biting your fingernails with a look of paranoia. Those streetlights are reflecting beautiful shimmering in your black leather, and your wellworn shoes are caughing dust. Your breath is disturbing yet surreal. Together we visited the parallel worlds and flew into other dimentions. My brain is burning up. Black fur and wings were rapped around the rainbow and clear diamonds are still sparkling in the air of your search for freedom and serenity. Your teeth are no longer white from all the drinking of dark, red wine. The night is cold and noisy and your free hand is waving as if to scare those bloodthirsty demons away. My mouth is dry and my throat is whisteling of each and every breath I take. We're spotting a fat woman posing as a dead fish while one fly is crawling through her nostrils. It made you vomit, and then you became completely numb. A leg had been separated from her body. You giggled. I felt blood hanging from my lip, you licked it up and looked rather exhausted. I'm numb from the neck down and way too tired to dig myself out of the sand. A thick fog gathered inside of your damaged brain. The detailed holes in the wall appeared to be eyes, revising you from head to toe. The dancing spider are transmitting red meat from a unavailable source of sorrow. You claimed the sun was singing you a melody and I'm still trying desperately to balance the reality from the surreal. I fell.

Sunday, September 28, 2008


Purple moonlight dances in senseless motion. All the people are walking around stoned and with deep denial, havn't got a clue about tomorrow. She grew old and the wolf bursted into laughter. Your eyelids are resting heavily on your eyes and I'm pouring hot stearine all over your naked, pale body. The winds stroke by like velvet without making a sound. Your lungs are stuffed with smoke. The streets of Frisco creeps down my neck as we behold the graceful architecture of the orange camel. Licorice flavour bruised wounds everywhere you looked and you raised your voice. I don't want to insult the observer but still I stained its heart with dark glue. This futile words are trying to brake the hummingbirds bones while they're trying to magnify the other side of a mind. Illusions wrapped around in saltwater, burning spears are attending to resemble the old mans aching and yawning. Oh, sweet misery, drag me out of this hell even if it'd take both night and day.

Thursday, September 25, 2008


Your hollow words are symbolizing grace between both worlds. The parallel galaxies are dancing in golden dust. Green shadows flew through our minds as the butterflies raptured around you and the flowers watched the lizards scaling. This is rock and roll who's slamming me right in the face like thousands icecubes at once. The spit from your mouth is creating a perfect bow with and imaginary arrow. Equal sharing of experimental thoughts and bouncing heartbeats are reflecting my every day. Your eyes are rotating once again as I groan. The curtains covered the white light made of liquid. A rawboned old lady had a knife and used it by chop two holes in that total dark area behind the moon.