the window chamber maid whispered a 6 syllables sentence with her hair in the wind. In the morning twilight I could see what she wrote in the sky. The stars were hidding, in there six figure darkness parterns. In her eyes moving pictures telling stories about the back drop of her thoughts. 8 steps then lingering at the door, in a pause, lips twitchen then she walked out. It wasnt apparent for the next four hours. then, blaring distant sirens told the stories. The Doppler affect has its way of making you notice the distance expanding.
Awakening with gray finger nails, eyes blur, still hanging on to what was just there. Sweating but cold, room closing in. the clock tells lies about what happened while you were slumbering. And its just a dull ache, in your feet when you try to walk, its like everything bellow your knees are still in that dream. Her smell still in the back of your throat, you can still feel her the way she was beside you. But now shes just a dull memory.
Dense forest, trees so close there limbs message one another. Roots texture the ground, sparse grass, ferns, birds sing. Fast forward micro burst. Its all gone dust 10,000 yrs of tree dna strains gone. Oxygen has turned to acid, lungs can suck it in but it burns, heat rises upwards singing hair. Fast rewind micro burst, huge leaves everywhere, sand ground rumbles, volcanic ash blizzard rivers of red heat. Wings on your back you jump everything shrinks as air increases under foot.
6 syllables, I saw her jaw move in slow motion, words come out like a roar. 6 syllables but I cant make them out. Smile, sly look in eyes behind the windows. And im obsessing over nothing making all of this out of one little movement.
These strange creatures have there way of capturing you, making you go back to that moment, so you can try to linger in it. Try to figure out what the subtleties of her hand movements and eye contact meant. Even the way they walk is elusive. Everything about them is magic yet devastating at the same time. So hard to grasp and not go mad trying to dissect it all. "Oh well, oh well, oh well," says jack white, or "she met me then led me, and I ate what was fed me, till I purged every word in this song." im glad that guitars aren’t like woman.
("now for that trip down hill" -Raisin Eyebrows)
Im going to search for some specimens, capture them, disect them, scientificly and see how this works. I need to bait this trap though, i'll work on some stink bait. Bitches love the stink.
Lonerus Wolfius your horror scope for the day:
your personality type has been identified as an INTJ. Your rare less then 1% of the population shares this type with you. your basicly a mad scientist mastermind or something. Also, neil young and van morison are god. which is why you might experience writers block.
god damn it how am I suppost to work with that. I could freeze this shit, make bricks and a shit igloo. Become a shit inuit, hunt shit whales. Fuck this is obcerd but I need to finis filling this page with fecies. Its a total train wreck writing 2 paragraphs at the same time. Stink loves the bitches yo. Oh ya shit again... when I get all obscene this shit flows like a hip hop mc with Augsburg. Fuck penut butter in my bed, penut butter in my head. Penut butter makes nice firm shit for igloos. Its the shit inuit version of escimo ice cream. "Also, neil young and van morison are god. which is why you might experience writers block." fucking asstrome, what the fuck. Writers block causes written diareah, well except it doesnt flow you have to force it out. I can feel my minds sphinkter slowly tearing as I purge each letter from it. And I still have half a ways to go. God damn it henry this was a bad idea, hopefully tomarrows page goes better this is pathetic. Now I really do neet to shit, hold up, i'll document...... 1 min later.. it was a dud.. I cant write I cant shit.
So I will attempt to rhyme. Orange... fuck! I cant even do that wait.. orange fuck like a … damn.im getting close tho, so close oh yes oh yes oh yes. Wait I think thats cheating. I cant fake an orgasm to fake not having writters block. What a fucking degression. Then neil sings, "from hank to hendrix". Damn what a fucking bad ass. Thanks neil for finishing my page,Your a god. Fuckoffimdone
editor's note: i didn't bother editing the end its rubbish so let it be rubbish. also writer cant type when aggravated.
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