control of the universe

cuntry committed to endless corruption, to permanent war.

fawn diary, i wanted to write a novel, but i guess the wish will be enough.

fear control, montage of destruction.

ghost matter

if we all just followed the rules would we still be in this hell?

i shall return for this stew pot in the spring.

i gave my love a bath today.

mister reads illuminated manuscript

the feeling me yet not me like light vibration moving through me not me like light through leaves and others existence.

that's where the ideas come from, one picture after another, specific, unstated, absorbed, you walk around, a conveyance for the images, a trail of breaths and flickering shadows, falling softly forward, absorbed by leaves and earth.

the empty staring back at us, the projected body, oh, shit, i don't know, leaves, a mouth full of leaves.

the hunger for color, the return of color without return, the borrowed images, the borrowing from before, from the feeling shared about existence without words.

this faceless tyranny that erases all before it, this global abstract tyranny.

thought's dangerous. you cant control it. your head disappears in it. the winter drags you on to unimaginable springs.

thought that's heavy and weighs nothing, the nothing like heavy, places that exist no more, that were only vegetation in the mind, the mind all places at once that don't exist.

we must return we can't we must.

we speak in food and pictures of food we call it love.

whatever words used were used words left words used to carrying feeling used to carry feeling until there was no thought left of power or control.

where justice was nothing but the application of chaos we could only wait