ectogasm…
the ghosts of the past bait us to think raw thoughts on our own… breeding dismay at our own actions… from where does this ephemeral holy spirit come?… this salty gooey fluid from between the thighs and in-between the eyes and ears… a jolting sensation that brings temporary satisfaction and comfort… feelings only seen in the interactions of coitus extreme experienced to dreamy pleasures witnessed only amid the few potential inhabitants… ectoplasmic orgasmic joy… the recreation in explosions and bursts of wholly unknown substance… a quintessence that truly defines this place we find ourselves within… the stroking gesture warranted through the cash and crisp barter for services rendered as the fluid is expelled… maybe true happiness lies in not having to shoot a load across the room… lies maybe in the tender embrace of another instead of the lip-smacking activities of giving/receiving oral sexual propositions… we can procreate at a whim and an accidental unleashing of force… the ghosts interact within the hosts, and create the substance that life is built upon… a destiny is weaved together from the spaces betwixt the real, and molded together with a runny paste filled with living things… molded in an image unrecognizable from so up-close, and these people deceive themselves into thinking they are receiving something from the source… unrecognizable for any real sign of a source out there except for the ectoplasm in the soul… the flame burns ethereal when all else seems dark… then it bursts forth from another soul to create another soul and on and on as the domino effect becomes a snowball in momentum, and then it becomes a population explosion… the ecto-gasm…
Thanks, khet.
Posted by :\_khet on February 26th, 2009 in e for Esemplasy..., khet's coroner. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.