I eat lots of pasta, washing it down with generous gulps of fine green wine. I just want to beat my chest and announce to the world that this is yummy! I dig my vegetable hyde shoes. My shoes make crazy pitched clicks I walk, like bamboo foot windchimes. Pretty balloons in flight. I've got green apple scratch and sniff pants. The crotch of them smells more banana though. Cigarettes glow in the cold darkness. I have a new a somewhat creepy home in the woods, across that stream. All my stuff is downtown , a long drive from my new mildly haunted house. I take my old red beat up truck that twenty five miles and load up. Picking up my brand new component stereo system off the street where it has been along with a big pile of mostly new stuff I got for my house. The stereo system is not even out of the box yet. I worry that someone is going to steal my goodies, but it's day two and still nothing has been stolen even though it's all in plain sight and partially blocking traffic.
Everyday I rub my penis for three minutes, it's a tradition, I wear a golden mask and sing the national anthum backwards. I never cum, but oh the places I go. Mediatation subjects, I find the most peacefull mediatation to be a visual one. I think about a giant machine with a crusher hammer that falls every three seconds to smash a christian to a bloody mess. I think "one", and see the fucknumer rolling down the belt as the hammer rises, "two" see the hammer begin to fall while assfunk picks his nose "three", the hammer strikes and blood spurts everywhere. I feel three months younger afterwards.
Take a drink of cold water while holding in hot smoke. This smoke is hotter than usual. Black clouds overhead, like a drinking contest with the dead. The smokes burns your mouth and throat as you let it out. It loops and spirals away. Thin smiles in gusty alleyways. Felt tipped penis dips. There is a surreal vending machine that travals about the worlds and times. I saw it as a child, it had among other odditys a plastic bubble containing space alein shit. A blue lump with red veins. Sick and otherwordly. The machine never stays in one place too long.
Super putrid soup of squid. Cinnomon showerhead. Swirling pearls of orange whirls. Dull lifeless lifes. stems for bones, we are making soup, oildrums full of it. peanut soup with stevia herb and peppermint berries. This soup can stay fresh if sealed for twenty five years, an opened one lasts shorter time of course. Soup will feed a future starveing world.
I walk through a bombed out burning world holding a soft warm little kitten. My only reason to live is to transport the tiny kitty to somewhere safe. then I can die in peace.
Drinkable water is getting so expensive. I spent thirty dollars a week on it alone.
Lets cook more apples over that open fire, roasted apples and wet puppy guts yumm yumm. I captured a manniken and I have it tied up in my van. I have been tortureing the mannikens for information, but so far it has remained silent.
Coffee hats, and caffeine mouse pads. Tangerine soda machine. Almound inserted egg poaches.Blond spice.