Contra-dicked.
out of Context;
‘We are the beasts locked up in a zoo of ill repute… The gatekeepers are truly afraid for their living minds, and let the organic portals channel their impossible odds somewhere else…’
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 …
________ _______ is a dick
**author’s note– this is a story submitted to a literary magazine. the title was about a certain bizarro author, that is why the name has been omitted. however, after reviewing the publication, i believe the only reason this wasn’t chosen was because it wasn’t a vocabulary assualt and was an actual disgusting story about why _____ _____ is a dick. obviously i know him better than those other fucks do. thank you for your time. ARW**
manifesting the right dealer.
another tale geared towards the quest of finding the right person to get drugs from, but is the Man all he seems to be, or is he the messiah?
Friday the 13th…
a good day over the seeming halts and craggy orifices of thoughtful mention so far… there is a flair to rainy holidays from hell… with only a fraction of time between me and my love wasting away during the Valentine’s day holiday weekend, and no sign of bad luck this time around… what taints this day so?… I know not… love is not a hapless victim this time around, but solidified thing to enjoy….or so it would seem… the tricks and the trade are one and the same… games of a different name… not to be confused with meddling mask or machete… no camping or crystal clear lakes… yet the haunting trill of bad luck screams ominous… a gentle strumming of the heart strings perhaps… does the hatred for everyone mean a love for something as special?… what living …
the Mayhem that Saturday has Created.
out of Context;
‘I let it distract me from who I really am, I let the decent things I am sometimes capable of move me to let go, and then I become the prick I really am… distrustful and distasteful in all my manners with respect to other human beings… will I be like this until I die, or will I learn without hurting myself or others?…’
Quote of the Month; February….2009
“If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise.”
~ William Blake; british mystic, poet, painter and engraver.
91798-31407
“Gentle (gentle) dew (sleep) as (lay) soft (straight) as (soft)
sleep (to wake)
A (that) sleep (silence) that (in) lasts (darkest)
forever (darkness)
In (dew) silence (as) and (tears) in (dripping)
darkness (out) lay (from)
To (that) wake (soul) up (the) is (fall) never (up)
Tears (never) that (lasts) fall (forever)
straight (in) from (a) the (hole) soul (from)
Become (the) the dew (sleep)
dripping (and) out (is) from (become)
the (as) darkest (the dew) hole…”