Rapture Rapture Rapture

Rapture Rapture Rapture!

12 Species of Human interacting with a GamePlan

You're not beat up looking
and every thing's clean
every one's sheen as
carbonated glass
So go skrye, Some go cry
Naw,
You're the Queen of survival.

The rain gushes,   clears smoke.
Anyone belongs.
Blackbirds dye
to get bright tips
to light the dawn;
take cider sips. Look to trust
the
Mechanism
You're the Paige
right on arrival.








Some singe-stink
by memory-lane
with the traffic-jam-dance
and discount prayers
said in vain.
Sometimes a pulse
speaks louder
than a pocket-book strain
You're the King of soft words
and nestled sprickets gone
tidal



8:00 INDIE-rock at the local barnes and noble and the left headphone bud broke out. Can drown it out on the right channel but all of the woah-ohhs and ooohiee-eees are detected. It's so cheery and wimpy and soulless and yucko.   They're playing the whole album. Something impersonal is detected by the music like it is totally everything-is-okay yippy-dippy and the band is walking around down a roadway and things are falling and hitting them in the head, but it is okay-- and alright, and woah-woah. There is a pleasure in not liking it. Some facet of defining being by 'staying the heck away from that stuff.' I don't think it is really indie rock though, I think it's something else.  Sort of drone-pop and mock-rock. Need blood and beauty and disdain, and desperation followed by triumph. Something with edge and punch but not mindless.

Food plants are still growing excellently. Plan ah plan to raise more.. soldiers-- an army of edibles not endorsed by that slain Green Giant.

Take Vit. C., Start at St John's Wort.  Get a night of a little better amount of sleep.  Fit-in resizing more images. All thumbnails finished. More than three galleries so that's plenty nifty. There's probably some auto-resize machina program to do it all but maybe it's neuro-whamming mediation, going through the stride of all that clickity click. Doing this when time-allows any how.

Heard sirenesque cackles from some fox or coy family at a morning-ish job. They were excited and celebrant about something. I picked up a stick and walked towards them with a camera recording but did not get in on the location. Maybe ainn'a coupla-days some animal's remains would be there if I check.. iunno. Related: I did find an owl feather far on in to wherever-world.
Thankful to find that. Need a good feather-finding season. Last year's seems to run alongside apple-finding measures, meaning there was a drought in that. If feathers follow appleness, and this year is looking good already for bloom, surely I can find a partridge feather. If I dream it I'll be happy enough.

Had good practice at being a damn-fool earlier.
Yeah but it issain't what I was going for. Cool-- some project to work on.
Endup lookin like a creep. A creeeeeeep. *Furrows brow* I'm not nice, I'm a mean guy.
Mean and demanding and always know what to say. 
Yo, Chariot, those are some heavy waves.
Perhaps taking ques from Coronation Street will help the societal survival ongoings on an energetically empathic wooden wheel.
Sez to get in to the Centre of the Wheel
but life without its ruffle and edges and fringe
has no turnings at all really.
So with all that clash and clang I just really want to express through sound or image or something
something that doesn't seem otherwise to get-along
trying to have a normal life
on planet Apocalypse Polysyllable,
whatever that is. 
Don't give me sympathy by any chance,
It's for me to fix at my own and I'll work at it at my own.
The intensities at facing self-failure, not if but when survived
add tallies to genetic-memory
and probably localized shielding for situations to be able to live through
better and more easily.
You're on Earth,
You get your suffering like any body else.
There are beautiful things
But don't bullshit about it
that at simulation eartheach and all earn their way back to the Right
of remembering who they are, what they are,
what they are apart of
and called that Energy, Electricity of Godism
all of the masks and ideas of strict unchangeability
seem as wish fulfillments
to not self-change or move ahead and ramble,ramble,ramble.
You know it. You feel it.
We're not naive about the something-more
and it's not fairy-tale like
because there is great to it
called the Hidden Self
but the hidden self isn't all boogly-woogly, also.
Laughter could not exist other-wise
because of Ouroboros.No, I just wish you to know for mankind to live
from the Golden Heart.
So make a metaphor to prove to others
so not to live from the poisoned Gut.



Laughter: at a nail through the leg or a hawthorne through the side or a garden tool
bruising the shin all hectic-like
but an emotional-social error
and the flags of day-to-day risen
to nag and nag and nag at the situation.
Q. of Cups and trying to take credit for all string-levels at the same time.
Character study!

 Heard some good stories, though, yesterday, and had good peanut butter crinkly cookies while listening to them. Good movie tastes and pliable space to get words through. Animals sniff each other out and the similarity-abundance calls for life-time recital. Recitation brings life back-to.


Ya get in to town, and words bounce off the weird shapes and schedules. Connecting is a 'sniff out the situation' kind of situation but there is threat in the claustrophobic density of hard, heavy, threatening machinery. Bygones exist but what exactly is their deal?  Everybody has an inkle of the human-game going on. You are an alien pretending to be a human being or you are a tree dreaming of being one of these sapien-things. You are a process, a capability. What of a moaning frustration and how about the cataclysmic un-ease where the natural-way is not ongoing. Collectively,
remembering the Great Thrashing (worldwide event)
which induced into the mass subconscious
the fear of the Total Self
due to the responsibility
of a Thoth-Dionysus-Isisian dance.  
Also, take back the name of the Goddess Isis because she is more important and Sacral
than yet another gang of cronies going and ripping off words with meaningful vibration-elements,
but that is enough of that for now.

Paint Gold onto token-like stones.  Draw value onto those stones. Just bury them wherever in random places.. probably far, seemingly unfindable. Let them be, like that. 
Leave prizes for people.. in places where they won't foul them up.
Probably sounds all occulty-mystic-jibberish talk. Another trap of definition. 
I forgot what other word there was for that. Probably statue-clammerin'.

double sided tape situation

Forgive whatever inaccurate judgements. Move more towards the Golden Heart.
Try new food. Settle down on bombarding friends w handwritten letters. Under-stand.
Watch a Mickey Rooney movie. Stop being so self-centered in credit for emotional and
kin-esthetic events.
INDUCE Nervous-situations manually and witness in realtime how silly it is to be nervous whatsoever. Do this until it can not be done any more.  Make it so that it is not one of those saying it is easier than doing it kind of mouse-mazes. Wish the "world" would believe you
when communicating even the thought of __fill in the blank__(your personal movie script here.)

The Thunderdome was just a Sneeze/Predetermining the turtle-wax

Cats are crazy but that is why I love them.  Because a nose is a kind of assault weapon for them, they can also take care of getting rid of some of their nose slime at the same time.
The fat one is howling pretty readily. Short of maybe a cooked goose or something, nothing
will stop her little fits. Well, big fits I guess.

Got a roof and some support beams (only professionals do it in that order) onto the shabby, shabby, but dependably enough sturdy greenhouse frame.  Didn't shin into any more nails but had the 'Swiss-opportunity'* to stand on the top of a wobbly ladder holding a live chainsaw.
So it's done besides the plastic which'll wall around the frame. 'll be like a little clubhouse for all the flowers and vegetables.
Going to leave a deck of cards in there for the plants. It sounds like bullshit
but plants are known to grow better when you give them the chance to gamble
when you are not looking. I'll leave a couple sets. Maybe some marbles, jax.
When I'm done with using it as a greenhouse it would be a good space for a pool room.
If the table's uneven that'll make it even better.

*A Swiss opportunity refers more to the knife than the Swedish themselves. But if the Swiss want to take credit for the knife then they may have to also associate themselves with the phrase. Swiss-Opportunity means that if you are in a situation where you are naked with nothing but a knife on your person and times are tight and you're at a last stand with some godawful situation, then you rile up with an inspired oomph of total charisma and unexplainable gratification. It is the using the lament and desperation of a situation as an element of actual inspiration.
I, personally, don't think the phrase makes very much sense,
but it was best fitting. 

dislike all the royalties ye have to pay to Disney for this kind of stuff, but the sprout
is having a steady, quick progression. (see prev posts) The others are pertin' along, too.

creek being subtle

Subtle creek breeze felt intensely good-- at the first light of morning. Something irreplaceable and calm and forgiving.  It felt like the whole world felt gentle at once, for once. No "false-reality" mind-stuff. [looming doom of ink-existent bullies whom appear in envelopes housed in a mailbox. The IFs and BUTs of why that one thing didn't go that way and the other thing didn't go the other, etc.]

stone huck

Just intrigue in the immediate surroundings. Tiger stoans in the creek. Lots of flat stone rocks to huck up on to bank-tops. Gather'em to stack into smallwalls.
Hawk lands in the tree like some daily-routine.  The battles between the hawk and crowes appeared as a sort of befriending dynamic. They'll war eachother but not shoot to kill this time around. All was subtle and meaningful, unapologetically. Unallergically. 

Re-oiled the 'ol motorbike chain.  Found some TurtleWax can from 1984.. has a finebit left in it still. 'll see how good it shines up. Since both the bike and the wax match decades it could do some good.

 Way later throughout: Experienced tremendous results in (useful) sensation from face-tightening/de-tensing exercises.  Done amidst intense heat (but do not broil or saute).  Before that there was a state of grief of alarming tension and mind-stuff nags. Assumed outside components and assumptions of collective-opinions. that sort of dangerous grouping of brain-chatter which: generally fills all folks headspaces probably pretty common-like through each day.
Goin' down centre-lane (1-2-3-4-5) while thanking the revisited regiment of 'ol Cptn. S. Hyatt's Energized Meditation techniques.  Useful. Persistence.

16th

16th also-- was fern harvest re-visitation day. Mixed in to this post. Wrong timeline!

Anyway, I'm a mute or a dark-mime lately.. what was I supposed to say? De-tread the boots

trembling fire flies

Got a little bit more of a sleep last night. Well hot damn.  There's more of a certainty that all of that research for the insomniac kid can come to a close.
Today was an ai'ght day. I leaned just the right way and got a nail into my leg.
It felt alot smoother and less painful than it shoulda.  Atleast I can laugh right after it happens.
It sunk in smooth!  What a bunch of shit though, me having those boards out like that.
           Actually I was prying nails out-of those boards so they weren't rascally dangerous claw-broads.
But what can'ya do?
Lean-into a nail, that's what.

It caused my left thumb-base to stire some pain.  I kept thinking why isn't this nail incision causing a ruckus but it never really did or at least the pain went to my thumb. Have to go get my circuits rewired probably. Prolly won't. Would hate to see what shit would be found.  Maybe an inch over and the nail would've done some damage. It wasn't just a peck-- it glided on in a distance.

Kept up with the tools, despite, and finding useable pieces to hammer and drill. Keep me busy & moving lately, so I cannot play that thing they call rumination.

Some decent growth spurts came-to-be.

would devour a live mickey mouse for dinner.

have to feed em ovaltine and play em lotsa the Shaggs to keep'm happy.

Made another bad joke (this time about eating cash-registers)
that likely got me kicked out of the guard job
at the Tower of Babel or towel of babes
or whatever it is called these days.

Future prints and leans into gardening

Sequences involving nerve-calm, and mileage expansion.

Going through image-sorting and such, I had an idea to do printups
of images that are going to only be done in runs of five prints each.

There'd be two images selected and worked together, like above, but no digital record of the photos...
so those who ordered a print would know what print would be theirs only by opening the postal arrival.

Would delete the pc stored digital source image after all five are sent out.
Will think about doing that in the future if any interest interest interest is garnered
when furthering the idea. Could be fun. it was fun playing with the above image mainly
to side-away from the roboton rhythm of resize-save,resize-save,resize-save.

Been an alright day. Got to make it up to a camper which has finally found its nesting spot after some long while. 'was my first time residing in it during a rain storm. Able to open up a good amount of windows in there and let the rain-air cleanse through, and feel the creek-like-cold breeze fill it and give it an atmosphere.
When you're in there, there are exclusive sounds of woodpeckers and frogs and things navigating around tree tips. Things you don't hear so clear when you're possibly visible to all things alive. 


I added bone structure to a soon-greenhouse and tried out the sustenance of the black and decker drill battery pack-- which was about the same as a canon camera battery pack.. get more than one-- have a spare with ye.

Yah so the area that is intending to be a greenhouse was foremost going to be a small cabin. 
Time took over where I did not, and when winter was around the base was to come under heavy attack from busted off trees.

crushing heft of snow-snapped tree bulk

So there were three or four heavy plumes of trees that crashed down. Possibly a sign it was better that I slothed to never finishing the cabin itself. If it was completed, then the project I woulda had there would have gotten the roof squashed in and further efforts would have been reversed. At least the platform can be made into a greenhouse.

So I chainsawed away.  Yea the setup, not to laugh too much-- was my first go at building a structure like that.  Happy'ta learn and build more and better and trustier ones.. and not have'm pulverized by winter-weightedness.

observing the snarling bramble to get at

heaving at more of the bramble

coffee and boot and strit-timber

scatter

scattered debri

more vidscreen of bombastic bramble

Cleaning up the foible.  Before mess and after scampered away branches

all got wobbled and enamored and bent and kerplunked

finally had just only a bit left to chainsaw

There's a lot of thick base pieces to make maybe a teepee out of or a more temporary greenhouse-- maybe a structure.  A hellofalot of campfire bramble is also there so that's cool.

So'll have a writing space right next to where a greenhouse will be neighboring. 

Lotsa indoor starters are already sprouting and perkin.
Even mickey's bombastic head has a special sun season sprout sprouting after only a coupl'a days.
Heard you're supposed to look at flower-wrist watches to keep track of its rhythms. Will look and see.

Looks like a better season for growing than last year.  Less super-market standing-around in clodded cashier lines, good! 

Website progress and old gallery photos

The old site still exists. I have a backup of that slithing, philanthropic creature.    

You know sometimes you can take the straight line--- from the pied piper to the donut.
But why not walk the way 50 yards to the east, under the crippling barbed wire, past the bunny rabbit wielding a live hand grenade, overtop the slunky looking Dotson and finally to the donut?

Well in a way----
Because I'm putting new watermarks to each photograph. This means retracing as many of each image that I am able to off 6-something hard drives.  Some of the previous gallery shots won't be in the new site. Newer photographs will be! 
And the order is definitely going to be--- differing.  And as much work that was put in the old ordering of the--- by this time defunct since late 2012 website--- it seems to be a nice thing to have a fresh lineup.  That is what I am going with saying, anyhow-- it helps during the process.

The funnest part is the thumbnail resizing!

I did find a portrait of Dick Cheney from this fiasco where he was hunting from a boat and he apparently shot some Aboriginee woman with a shotgun.. or the story goes something similar

actually Cheney shot a lawyer in a face. I'm mixing that up with the photograph of a "naked" "woman" seen from the Smokey and the Bandit style sunshades. My collective media mind at the time may have twined the two events together assuming that Cheney had shot a naked woman lawyer in the face with a shotgun from a boat.
But I'm glad I got out of politics*! It was always hard getting the swivvel correct.. or-- getting the bent-up, chewed-up, soggy chewtoy mush chowed down in one piece.

(*I just wanted to say that for once in my life. Nobody is in politics.. and everybody is sort of in politics. And nobody gets OUT of politics--- because nobody -enters- it, really.  We all sort of just put boxing helmets on and run into each other until we get dizzy and raw. And whoever falls down, we go through their pockets.. and if they become conscious, we tell them "good job! good fight!" and compliment them and they feel better before they do pass out.) 

man i was a revolutionary!
(and you can be too. Just kidding, I'm not selling t-shirts anymore :( )

photo of taughannock lake from 2008 from the old, moldy gallery.

2007. Had more of a gall to get spontaneous portraits.  So now I've got to get the nerve to start doing that again! What's stopping me? Respect!? Urking someone? URKING!? Well,hell----

04/2007. My good skate-friend's house had all of these horrid looking dolls splouched all over the place which his mom had in place of houseplants or-- i don't know, axe collections.  This was one of them.
I might start just retaking these kinds of photos just to do captions because it's fun also.

Lotsa old stuff was weened out. A grotesquely numbered 64 pages were in the gallery. I suppose it was only fate to ween out photographs of this heaving beaut of a duo of cinder blocks.  January 2008

Splay of the new-gallery.

Anyhow I'm more picky now with galleries but will probably bloat it back up to 64 or more pages if the inner detail-nanny can be subdued and put onto an inflatable chair, and left to drift off far from a current, unable to string me in about things like professionalism. I want the site to have more of that fun stuff that stifens up peoples opinion of me, like the thousand-titted mail-lady etchings and other similar things hidden here and there. I don't want a boring life mang.  Since I am reteaching myself all the ballistics (and probably wrong ways) of putting a site together  I guess not all all all of it should be as it has been.   I like the old ghetto layouts pretty well anyway, though, so basic pages filled without those little damned boxes that show up when you are scrolling halfway down and those menus where dropdowns contain 28 extra dropdown offshoots are things I can't be too uncool cool cool cool ironic cool to want around there anyway.

Disgustingly enough I will have a twitter linked to the site. But no instagram, because now that I am an old man who fills potato sacks up with youngins and throws those heavy sacks of youngin's off my damn fucking lawn, I am not uploading photos straight off of an i-phone.  And no face-book. Face-book you are a son of a bitch. But the twitter...I will Tweet.  I will give out advice.
If I could log in to my twitter today, my tweet was going to be

A drawer full of broken clothespins
does nobody any good.
      
Which is true!  Actually, that's not free advice. Maybe I can make it a pay-in
advice twitter. Where you don't pay-to-view it and get advice and tips for
all the really important stuff.
You'll be able to view it, and then the money will get sucked out away from you after
you get the life-advice.. that way if that particular day's life advice doesn't apply to you,
it's okay, I'm still covered. So it's fair for everybody.


Here are some other photographs from that old old gallery when netfirms let no goodnick leaf eaters like myself host free domains, before the engulfing and stripping away and de-plummaging whereupon sites like netfirms and zxq.net, my second run of hosted sites, took away the options for those without bank accounts to ever use the internet, ever.

 Clouds with trees underneath.   :-D Happy about the title. Just for the title I might try to sell that to the Johanson Museum of Art.  It just needs a.... mime in there... somewhere.  2008.

 biking with Elbee. 2007.  Canon Powershot, haven't I always championed you?  Yea, gotta update camera models now, though, it's about time.   Too many pros and cons between feature comparisons for the powershot series.. because the earliers kept details real well and were good for on-the-go.  Yo Canon why did you sons of bitches ever strip out the sound-recorder function?   Bought so many ebay Canons just to be able to  keep that feature on a working camera.

 2007.   BB Lake. Thank you for causing me not to crack, you guiding herons and cranes and any relative of the gorgeous Ibis bird.

 What you're having for today's meal. 

These were all from the same day. Crowe crowning the treetop.

Anyway that's that.. I'll be happy to finally have a site up again where I'll probably re arrange every thing some million times and have to go through and redo links like a couple of million
but deviant art wasn't doing t any more and having side-accounts for sites where you share traffic flood stream with billions of others makes it all seem so washable and disposable and its a real blood orgy of what-is-new! all the time.

Lots of the old gallery can be posted up on this blog here and there.
   





like here.. here is an old man with a cigar near a no parking sign. 

away away

Soul-satisfaction says,
before each night,
to earn that sleep
Soul-satisfaction must find it's end.
And so my face could look like a face again
if I satisfy my soul
through broken amplifiers, possibly,
or words.. and not lazy sloth patterns--
so go slay some excuses.

I walk around town in thick-night
past a knitted sweater world
of a swelter-cook day.

I'm a sober person actually, I hope you're
not surprised.
Probably manic, who looks like a tripper.
Just a tired face.
Take away stress and compare me to congress
and all might kinda look okay.
Could smoke some herbal insight again.
Something natural. Rest-assured, never tried poison.
Poisonous dumb drugs swelter communities.
Via propaganda signals and zombie medication.
Spent time trying to get some off poisons before
but who were any of us kidding.
Still ain'no what to blame.
Some threadloops are casual and some
tought to squint through completely.

No calling, it seems stupid. Would do death
before that-- it's a slow death, that.
Been four months since some cannibus
and never leaned on it. A few times e'ry few months.
Sensory-intake sensitivity, process more information
at a seemingly more conscious frame-rate.
Learn of self-patterns.
Never even bought any of it.
Cassional gifts.
Now it's like,
through breath, it is a challenge,
But through natural process of breath-cycle, 
there is a calling
to create that sacral space.
To go into the nameless in breathing-exercise.
Bottle of vodka'll last a year. 
Go every once in a while...

so when things hit heavy
in the guessing-department,
the human-societal implement of causation
to destroy oneself in some way
has it's different urges.
It's different faculties.
Like remote-control crash a spaceship
into oneself
and see that you were driving it,
all the while.

Get drunk on moment like a wanton funner
for the Dionysian  leaps--- but by word and play
but none play... who plays? maybe I am ignorant,
of who is playing.
Another MOOD would have different,
more confident answers.
Today's is a thinner veil
of showing outright some trials
of self-uncertainty here and there.

Those are other games, those street-light games,
and so many dressed to impress
to the bar, with feather skirts high like advertisement
jingles
saying hello to the jungle,
and smells of artfc. flower overkill perfume spray--- saying
dance dance spin---
Men who can bribe them.
intimacy with commonground
coming lackluster.
Sex is listening to someone tell their soul-worth
and sex is also having sex, well, too.

And there is affection
near pear-trees and
where strange animals make whirling purrs.
Cold creek water washes the diesel-fumal air
out the pores of wandering skin.
Ocean-invigoration, today,
with deeping in the cold.
Bright waters awaken any
backpack wearer and briefcase carrier
upon setting the being into turbulent waves.
Sure does awaken and have ya come alive.

& ye park right near the library
at drunker's-wander hours:
A new student hotel has 556 stories up high.
Mumblesome slurs yell down towards 'ye,
but, trying peacefulness,
and not confrontation
like climbing up there and fighting rabid animals
like a rabid animal
and going off and out on someone.
No clunking, no headbutting,
or viciousness.
Smile and moon em with the blinding sun
and bite on the tip of a flower stem.
Some flower grasped because it was a necessary intuition
to plucka vivid yellow flower with three caveblack roundings
in the middle of the middles.

Try to be a good person at the heart to others
truly
without others acting
suspiciously.
I don't WANT
anything from you
except some goodness, too
clear of the animal-gut-games.
Viscous, hidden smiles.

We are all in this maze-together,
with collective analogies
and treadmills of Guinea pig wheels.
Either way, collective evolution, if sensed,
could reiterate noncomplaicency toward
diverting a golden age.
Your buildings will not be remembered.
The mountains will.
The ground will recall the mountains
No person will recall the buildings.

If a hippie could channel up some anger,
I'd be delighted and proud and probably fat
on all of the muffins it would drive me to eat.
Actually, earlier I picked up some muffins.
One was meant for someone,
but Mother Time snagged me
and burnt my bunions
and wouldn't let me go
until the adulthood hours themselves
came to an official closing.
That flustered me. My me-ness went askew.

So going to:
Go in to the super ultra store.
artificial light
makes me look like a vampire.
artificial light
loses to true pastel.
I look good when the light is low!
and people guess
and hardly know.
Bought some paper and got some pens;
cashier says she likes to write.
Go out to write what I think must be said
by the bike-racks there in better-toned light.
Because for some reason I thought I
screwed something up.
Ask Soil and B., they saw my claws
and a set of window curtains
with mysterious tears.
They were not my tears
of course, of course.
So I ran off.

What I thought I befuddled
was probably nothing at all
but a cup-of-cups
overthinks.
Can't write there, too many skuts of shopcart
sounds and thick machines grinding gears.
Walk over to the motorbike and sit on that groundboat.
Saddlebags stuffed with this and the world.
Lakestones are the world,
and a masonjar with 2 late sips of coffee left
are the world.
Coffee is a drug, confidence
is a drug. Nervousness is a poison
like those things they're building those
spaces for folks to go and use,
so if they start to die
maybe they really will not die.

Realised I don't need all that writing paper
I'd just bought in artfi. light-land
or all those pens.
Stopped to drop in
to that bright-light product place.
Gave that girl some paper-pages
and a pen.
Said she likes to write short stories.
Said something to her in the best
human language I can.
Say 'here, write something on your break
with these.
it should go far--- I did not need all
this paper
tonight.'
Which was true. I needed just two pages
with the right words.
Maybe asterisks or keypad symbols of all types, who knows.
She said thank you I appreciate it
and I don't read emotions between content thanks
or things said due to survival-reactions,
like be-kind and'll go away.

I wrote,
"Hey Season,
ain't I foolish?
It would be to speak the sounds
of sleet and hail.
To listen to 'ye talk
as my ramble-button's off
would balloon-drift me to
new stratosphere.
Like the balloons used in a World War
only one that had gone astray.
It vacates the idea of adversaries
and drifts into sense of paradise.
Mother-Time gnudge-sprung me
and by God don't lemme seem
like I crossed any lines.
It is a goodness of friendship and
natural current-- So I'll
listen for hours
and not cluck-cluck-cluck.

Water of Waters take in
emotional-information
like every nightmoon
is the spheriest and full.
Even as a teenage werewolf,
don'think a pebblespeck round you
is dull.''



Naw, that was never written.
Would have
turned out right'on
if it were.
Things'll turn out right in any regard,
whether I like it or not.
So I'll have to deal with that
and have the joys and deal with the pains.