staying the night up high in rainclouds & I feel safe now when I look down the wide world is so small.
we are all tiny specimen divinely dissected subdivided into lively sections by wants by fires by greed by needs & secret desires;
one nation under god’s feet tired slaves perspire unnecessarily for possession & obsess over what they each acquire.
it is you, it is I, and we are frighteningly alike.
my attention’s quite untidy all the time my mind gets redirected it walks like hell & talks like heaven.
I am not well I never have been.
but this hex is a blessing, it’s too **** precious.
we are spilling into the ocean over the edges. The Land is dead and has been, days now. I find it kinda pleasant & I wonder if they’ll ever get around to disinfecting the nest of decaying flesh, before it infests the rest, y’know, the ones that got left.
rot is a pox spread by proxy & is not bonded by neither lock nor key; that’s like, ‘**** what you got **** what you be **** what you thought what you think what you see.’
*******, **** me, **** everyone, **** everything.
it’s lovely, it’s lovely.
I even think it’s kinda funny, I laugh at nothing. Oh, the irony