habit rings

slower... slower... falling... falling

around my dreams

daleks. everywhere.

happy ones.

eating my emotions

ringing in my ears

seeing one half of my face

the shadow on the ceiling

missing the heart that holds it

from there, a little truth appears tiny

from here, a little truth is everything

 o ( ) o    (o)

that mirrored orbit opens a rift

slows to a crawl when it can't hold itself

a tree branch

whispered by the cross section I call my desk

this place isn't just understood by human eyes

in places like those, there's little time for imagination

though, who knows what a sleeping spider dreams

a web. looks like a maze. a crystal kingdom in the morning dew. vector of approach. just one of the many multiple orgasms that live in the moment

one of them showed me that what appears to be the center of the web actually rapidly flattens, the apparently 'infinitely deep' vector trailing off in two dimensions toward where it hid. behind a leaf. that's how it knows. though to something that is adept at ordering chaos - integrating it with itself in a meaningful manner - a fly..

well, who knows what a fly dreams.

that environment is probably a little confusing. the edge of chaos. probably a little something like hyperbolic (parabolic?) rings in space. and you are what you eat. or what you see of it, anyway.

right now, my emotions are incredibly chaotic. gates opening and closing. emotion spreading through a web that was a little damaged. i closed my eyes and saw millions of silhouettes staring back at me. some people hated me, some people loved me. down is the new up? somewhere doesn't have time to see it as a coherent whole. there is no doubt in my mind that my head is not a butt. it's a but. and then. i'd put it better but then I'd have to kill me.

system overheating

my dreams are like a minefield atm. this plane is really the only stable one. if I don't want my emotions to be bled. they're using aggression (perhaps under the guise of something else) to keep me locked up. seems it's an automated system. but I am, just a little bit, decaying on my own in a room. which I knew is what would happen. the reason I mentioned it to her.

(BBC Radio condescending me. Talking about the Titanic).

Too much has gone on. This is a fragmented account.