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burning_eyes
Oh no. It's that time again. I don't want to but i cannot help myself. I will simply explode if i hold it in. There is a sweet release in simply giving up to it. The sacrifice to the Other becomes an addiction, quite literally a way to escape the small and revolting lives of babylon.
I stretched and yawned casually, knowing full well the others watched and were waiting. Beethoven's seventh sonata in D major. A drunk angel in the arms of the darkling Baccus, lost. The notes were so very pure and spontaneous. Suddenly i felt simply radiant. It were as though I were no longer myself but dancing in the caverns of my deepest darkest secret. The smell was of hot copper and sweet. A hiss of sound for just an instant then nothing... and then nothing at all. I could feel the earth move beneath my feet, and every color had been rendered new and yet un-named. Suddenly, sounds had a furry texter; smells a hue and cry. The light shone down strangely as though filtered through water.
Time moved in strange jumps, like through hyperspace. Did John wayne feel like this? is that why he walked strange? Is this a dream?
Oh well. I wasn't doing much anyway. There were streams of darkness across the sky, and the orange forks of lightening were like stick men walking across the desert mountains. I had no idea trains went so fast. It's like a hat trick. Now i'm here; no wait! i'm already in switzerland!
The Others were very close. Suddenly, in such an absurd way, i'm singing "I will survive." I'm doing a fat albert in a slow motion and Singing. I never sing. I guess i must have eaten something or drunk something suspect. that's always a hazard when camping by way of a career choice. Well cool. I was kind of bored. Oh look, flamingoes. This must be what Texas breathes like. well that sucks. I think i'll sleep now.
no wait. I've been poisoned.
.... Does that mean that if i go to sleep i might die?
I wonder what my death would sound like? Can i die? I feel so .. awake. Maybe i will not worry about that for a while.
Here it comes.
...
Uh. was I asleep. Oh, sorry. Where was I? Oh yes, what to do when around attacking shrubbery.... Well, i think Jay and silent Bob about covered that one to a nicety. Personally i'd just carry mace and camp upwind.
- by Reedus Flanery |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 05/05/2009 |
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- Title: For the Tiny
- Artist: Reedus Flanery
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Description:
a foray into the moonlight world of a drifter. A paradox reality where everything has a life of its own, the hunter finds that scents can paint an entire array of landscapes, all fetching or hideous depending thus so. She could spend hours in a grove of foxfire.
- Date: 05/05/2009
- Tags: tiny
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