man o man, i been feeling glum,? ive been so high before, gotta get back to it, this is a cost, for the price one pays, some costs, sunk costs, help i lost the cost, lost the coast? lost on the coast, back in bar harbor, bar hopping in san fran x ‘no one from sf calls it san fran’ heh thanks locals! now lets go find some fet a means , ams is best. crystal crystal, no more long gone, gone wrong, follow the peace, theres no good in war, lost visions and aimless murders. every word i scratch into that old wooded post feels like an anguished screech for help. miserious and miserations, leave me woddled full of wockey, without the slush, mucking about in sleet, a steel sheet to keep me warm in these winter nights, oo so cozy! the stones on the roof keep coming loose like the teeth in my mouth on those long forgotten acid trips, hanging with those satany fellas and fellos sure can get a bit drafty with the spooks now dont it? looking for friendly reminders for an alternative out of this route, away from this long and winding road with no end, have you seen the wolf who watches from the forest? with a mouth of jagged porcelain like stalactites, curling in the dimming monochromatic moon light, a sign of brotherhood, of communion, of protection, a deep feeling of safety overwhelms me as i stare deep into the white wolves eyes as we both walk silently in unison down this dark and eerily dirt road, in parallel we do paw our way down this yonder, almost treading so lightly one may mistake it for a play.
i must return to my plant, the ‘can & yes is best!’ to smother, smolder myself upon it, dousing the fleshy wet pink innards in a torrent of ashen flurries.
i could go for Liquid Satin Dioramas at this exact moment, for creative and to commune with the gods.
hark best to thee all,
for gentle nuturing to the most painful
