Old freewriting. A bit girly but I thought it was nice.

The cracks in your eyes leak when you speak, fragile, pearly white pupils that bat back and forth like planets aligning for a final judgement. You speak so soft and eloquently but are so afraid, your body a divine temple, silky and unornamented except for the burdens that are carried upon it. The turret in which you were once sheltered is gone, lost with the sparkling winds that had carried it. You might miss the cozy warm blankets and frilly pillows in that bedroom but you are different now, you are lost in your own solidarity. If you are lucky maybe you'll escape the labyrinth, take the time to sniff the flowers and maybe your spirits will soar and your brain will fill with the same restless dopamine that lives inside the blossom. I hope this will happen, I hope I can fix your leaky porcelain eyes, but I am no man of any sort of trade and I do not mean to be. I am only a wisher. I can hope for miracles but I can only craft within the limits of my own aching bone and flesh. Love weeps, existence dawns.

Baby Wars and Truth Beams (Freewriting)

The paintings are becoming more vivid again, Marley. One of the most terrible things that has haver been born just crawled under my skin and is heading straight for my cerebellum. Once it begins to tear and gnash at my nervous sistem I will be an angry motherfucker again, and I won’t even remember your name. I will swear at the stars and bind myself to hatred of all things, the microbes that controlled animosity inside my peace valves will be raped and thrown into burlap sacks into the new york river. A few days will pass and on the twelfth of October, a sun will rise with much more essence than its brothers and sisters. It will rise and grow brighter and brighter, untill all is whiter than any holocaust bleakness in any history book. The one thing you need to remember is that God loves you, even if he did try to rob a liquor store. It wasn’t his fgault, the hipster with the sad grin made him do it.

Call me old fashioned, but the smell of lilacs makes me quiver with a sort of euphoric shock. It is trendy to go along with the most immediate urges, while those who pursue greater depths and levels of necessity are burdened with the collapse of their social life, and the ridicule from those who choose not to explore themselves. It is a cry for help when society collapses in such a manner. The bonding agent that shoved us all into this same world is imploding. The nexus that will replace us will be the focal point for love, and the land will crawl with babies of all creeds. There will be a war, and the babies will starve and fall into trenches. They will fight back, nude and covered with mud, but their efforts will be callous and misguided. The young must again obey their peers.

Money revolts the anarchists into bumming homosapien flowers. The periodical discharge from the cornea may be a result of the truth burning into your retina, and searing your mind like a cow being branded. It wont be long once you have forgotten who you are, and then you will forget what you stand for. Monotony goes well with monopoly, and true dissidence will come with the plausible discourse of action and happenstance. The vixen with the solid green lips will be the one who dances with villains, and it is her that I need to talk to, and tell her that the earth is dying.

Ghost Love (Freewriting while inebriated)

the mind of man is not far gone in it’s wild conspiracies and hypothetical nonsense that they tyhrow in just to destroy your dreams and inhibitions always remember that every time you fly they gain one of uyour wingas, and your children will never live to see the future only six of your friends will follow me on my jpourney not only are you gone to me but you are really gopod at what you do like things like seetling a village in its exposure to me that is a wonderful thing to be able to do ia am regretting i do not know where the arrows are pointling to the edge of the earth or otherwise things are moving atround very shrapyl and i do not see how to get there for it is only like a miracle to say that we don not ermember what we are told everytdh as things like that get to us in the end it donesnt really matter because thats where we all seem to head anyways and the laughing becomes so hard that you forgry to look where yoi are headed and the end of the line becomes so invisible that when you are lifted into the sky almost eveuryonearound you will love to be in you omnly the very finest would ever uhderstand but the end of the line is something you need to understand with only the finesrt if tijmes journeys and expodeitions in the end of everything

the only way to truly say what i mean is so arrange it in a way where things dont really matter as much as they used to anymore not the same as rhelly wanting to go do it but it is just so amazing that i needed to tell you that when i am over the sea and instead of on top i am at the boottom i see only how things couldve gotten better if we tried a little harder but i am not going to say it was all for nothing because that would be fraudulent inside and i d o not harbor any criminals in my heart for yuou were a witch and a scoundrel you fucking ghost wehre were you when i needed help every aspect of my life was something to do with the mafia the lords and the energy it took for me to write this paragraph is pnly the more proof that you need i want to rip you out a need air socket to throw acoros s the bends here with me uand uoir lover wojne dyay eweiiwkll wabts t9 see tyr08gu 9t t0 tye ehd wuere we caj -jpy uep-f 0t9 wabt t0 opead tue 9-9 tue [r90kj9]dsrf oahd 8h tye t9ke tya6 9t t00o f0r ke t0 kjaoe tuy9s s0jg 0hoy 0oeu 0f tye kjehj tua7 w0rutrpjehre dueicidh fhuffeh tgurhufhhrururu ryedurufuids udi