We can do anything here, cant we? And by we I mean me. And we can though, seriously.
There is nothing…. like a giant ocean and we can swim in any direction or space, we really can move in any direction. I feel like a lion but not as tired as a lion just powerful, (thunder only happens when it is raining) like a bear without the hibernation. (everything just sort of falling in place) But I have been hyphenating. I have been moving and getting divorced and drinking and running and fornicating. But there is something being born right now. (Every night walking with the sun impaling itself onto the ocean) I was built for this. I wouldn’t mind filming. I love filming. I feel like this creature that who has had all of its skin ripped off. (Something skinless, running around bare with everything exposed, something that hurts, something stronger) There was this pain in my shoulders, my back, and all this weight. An avalanche. (Craig Kelly) A mudslide. I want to drink it and swim it and feel it like a shimmering and slippery wet rain opulently falling on my dry skin. I want to be born again, to start over fresh. (I want to adapt.) A snow field so perfect and white before skiers, before rain, sleet, mud and footprints. Things before people. The moon. a beach. the Pacific Northwest. I want all of these things inside of my lungs, in my stomach, in my eyes. I want these things before they all happened. (Bundling up felling the part, feeling warm in your arms)
A giant iron comet slamming into the earth mixing with its core. Iron for the first time. Hydrogen for the first time. The debris. Earth debris forms the moon creates gravity, creates balance. Nothing in chaos, what are the odds? It is happening right now. I want this. We were meant for this.
And on foot, coming across somewhere some how, following salmon, (Siberia) following the food that follows salmon up the rivers and into the interiors (Alaska.) Fucking by the fire. You could build a house anywhere. Learn to cut down a tree. A mansion by the sea. A dog barking towards anything foreign Big sky, blue, everything so green like cutting open avocadoes. And it feels like there is a future when there are no rules. Before it was all done.
It is just layering itself onto of itself over and over and over again. (Pull it all off of me) And we have to get out of this I am getting out of this, that is why I feel the way I feel. Up to a certain point. All the way up to a certain point when everything turns into this monster.( This thing eating at my skin) You have to chop at it, scrape at it, chop it all down, and cut it away like cancer. Get back to being born. Get back to white fields of snow. Back to space.
The locusts have these little tiny hairs that are sensitive to touch located on their back legs. When there population starts growing and they start bumping into each other, something is triggered in their brain. They are normally shy and isolated but touching these little hairs activates swarming. This is weird, we are swarming all over the place. We are covered with oil and dirt, be are in this avalanche that is falling on our head. Billboards and credit cards getting fucked into our heads, fucking the heads of beautiful girls that are on billboards holding credit cards. Shooting ourselves in the head out of canons, from launch pads looking down taking pictures of war and lights, and cars twisting themselves around street poles moving fast like jaguars… and it is too much it is confusing and we don’t know which way to go, but we know we need to go, before it all goes. Everything is eating itself. (Everything reoccurring, disappearing, ouroboros.) Something is crawling up my leg.
I am covered with you, with her, I want to move and to swim into the openness. I will take you, we are moving can you feel it? There is not much left, you have to know how to find it. It is here. You can smell it, watch us twirl and hide, and seek, and whirl, and love, and fuck, my penis is inside of her, it is starting over, there needs to be some marketing. And pictures, picture this, a building with many phones to take the calls
Locust all over me… lets forget about it all and walk into the open places, into to snow white fields
(wrldmrine)
|