Anti-Technique
who's that pokémon?
Charge forth! Abandon all reason! I lost my reasoning the other day, and I couldn’t seem to reckon with it. I could never convince it to come back, no matter how hard I tried. I lost my reason the day before that, but that’s a whole different story. One that you’re not going to hear today. I lost… Don’t even ask.
Oh Jesus, you startled me! Y’know, it’s funny we’ve crossed paths, since I was just on my way to supper, and I want it last! You’re not laughing, tch. What, you here to give me my final testament? Well, you better step aside, I have an arc to complete! [narrow’s eyes] There isn’t enough room for the two of us, cowboy… [Mexican standoff ensues…] Oh wait, there is! My apologies :)
What in the world was that about? None of this makes any cheese string. Stringed cheese lining the walls where Stuart Little was brutally executed for speaking out against the Israeli government. As a rat he truly made a mark on us all. Can you pass the tissues? I’m all frayed over this. The spy get him. 2-minute noodles.
The thin noodle string has been plucked, and the vibrations circumcised my finicky casing. Now naked and exposed, my jelly jumps out of pure instinct, and lands right into another pond, uploading me into a new vessel. My incubator loses its host and cries, but my eyes are too hollow for shallow liquids. The pool sinks below, into every artery and vein, and I liquidate in the form of a nickel small enough to fit in your mouth, but large enough to block your oesophagus. Was that profound or what, guys?
If my nonsense makes you laugh then you must be a glutton for punishment, so get on your knees and take my deep metaphors until you choke on the fabric of reality. Let me loosen that cloth for you, you dirty little scoundrel. The flash of light stays in my eyes forever, when I see what’s under you. We crave the teetering of reality, skirting the lines of thought. Walk that wire with me tonight, but don’t slip, or the rope will catch us both and we’ll be unrecognisable by morning. Body to body, hands on feet on bellies on legs, we can sculpt our own mess of graves. It’s called rigor mortis. Just tug and hold that pose. Yep, just like that. Now say cheese!
Hey, don’t say that word! You’re bringing back deep memories, trauma that hasn’t surfaced for stanzas, all coming back. You unzipped me! I don’t like it! I don’t like to think about it! I hate you!
This is dumb and weird. I’m changing the frequency to something more~