Foriegn Rule

I hear roamins grumbling in the fields and for some days the world rules the depth of the foreign neights. Thing is something akin to the depth of humanity can touch the edge of experience and color the experience of all. Nearly like rainbows colored in primary and secondary colors only to realize that it's all reflected light in the waters of the deluge. Turncoats against the tides of time, into the history and future aspirations of each and beyond the reach of then living and now dreamt of lives. Taht's the way and the tao, or as the water is and flows into places where it is not the being of water. water. Taken aback a docile guinea pig draws the line in the sand, forcing the king into capitulation... and another day of sunrise and sets ends the same yet for the king and the pig its akin to a reality of indifference but yea, drums beat in the night for each. close close close your eyes explain nothing and that is that.

Optimists

Twisted inside of tubes of electronic warfare resides the ethereal dj-iNn of djance moves. The kind of obsidian sable coated lackluster noodle enwrapped delights that you'd find in a lower bovine intestine on a feedlot. Yet without redeeming qualifications and masterstrokes of impropriety its doubtful that this collusion of electronica/fusion/expresso/jane fonda/taffy would amount to nearly anything at all. Despite this the soildiers soldier on into something which could only be best described as something. Not to say that what should not be said but is implied isn't fit for spoken oratory or outward expression of this sort, but best left only inside ones own mind. This cannot be said. This should not be said. That said, we shall bite them on the nether reaches, we shall spite them on demand, we shall delite them on air, we shall never surrender.

Isis

Rollback

Still Forest

a Tree a grain. a beach a forest. a link to the edge.



waves leaves and times. just like back home...

click more, read more, consume more.

times leaves waves.

Deemed Safe

Mirrors seem safe enough. Walls walls full of mirrors. Until you decide that your big conan sword was too heavy to wear to work this morning and next thing you know you're standing there with some daemons and such chasing you, deadly fog trying to snuff you out and no way to break a mirror. Unless riddles are like your thing and the mirror also happens to like them and you riddle it until it don't riddle no moar and it breaks into shards of once sentient turing based silicate. Thereby something about what happens when you break a mirror and how your luck has turned bad for some number of odd number of years springs to mind. No matter, we've got a pouch full of slugs, a salt-shaker and ladder in the back. Climb to the top, shake salt on your wounds, feed those slugs to the last remaining daemon. Then reaping the benefits of your demonic proffering use their diabolical powers to reverse the temporal damage and return said mirrors back to sand. That way it'll simply be a desert covered in dunes with a satiated djinn laughing at his cleverness. Jokes on him though. Everybody knows you can make more mirrors, but who can make more desserts... Charles Karalt. That's who.

twister