what is the shape of the cloud in this psilocybic allegory? actually more spatial than mandlebrot I suppose but more textural than the bursting atom of the matrimony between forevermore and the forlorn satin of this now and the worn and dusty vow of this one horse town saddles up at every dusk and races every sunset and I smirk as the tumbleweed tumbles by knowing the silent saloon swings from the rust of the hinge that once meant strength yet something resilient still allows these patrons to pass and come and go as they will through the thankless threshold weeping now silently sleeping in the Van Gogh of this moon blue epiphany these Starry Nights and all of their origins SETTing suns among the flock like DNA in flames more Osiris than Gestalt in the ripping at the seams and it seems more like dreams on concrete than the glowing that’s released when the DMT floods my Strassman intuition and we like stupid creatures and brilliant beaut creators stand on the ledge of every moment still shouting in space erase my face off the memory card of every console obsolete I’m more divinity than digital when you really weigh it out, when you really weigh it out factor in 21 grams and the weight of my pineal then chop and snort that shit and sit and laugh as the kaleidoscope explodes
Posted on: Wed, 31 Jul 2013 03:57:15 +0000
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