Friday, 14 April 2017

Obsessive Complications 10

The Cosmos, pinprick stars. Black. I stumble out, a righteous sense. The words that follow, I, this point in time. 04:06 am. Lithium, Wormwood, Cocaine, 4-Methylmethylphenidate, Ketamin & other poisons. Wisdom teeth sprouting, an abscess & a grey hair. … Consciousness (a sickness,) it separates slowly from the unconscious (filth repressed) & so all proceeds into deepest darkness. Ego (Me. I, Always, It), super-ego (racist, right-wing, tory, homophobe, misogynistic, abusive: Father) the id (infantile, pervert, magic, spirit, soul, scatological, imagination, madness, laughter, innocence, primitive, animism, demonic). Drove out, expelled, banished. Woe to him! I rejoice in ritual … A listless sexual drive of an 80-year-old, Vicar of Christ. So, therefore, miserable, misanthropic with nihilistic tendencies. I detest nature, children, poetry, music, democracy & the liberal arts. I Love, tower-blocks, council houses, asbestos, bricks, concrete & plastic. I'm a thorough troglodyte, hermit, recluse, loner etc. Weirdos, creeps, losers etc., I have attained their level, nothing less! A dogmatic Uber-Nihil Inbred – a self-regarding consumer slave/Lumpen-proletariat – Trash-man. I sometimes write too (if only concerning one's self/ego) ... IObsessidipus!” (my portmanteau). Soul still intact. A former practitioner of ecstatic drug ritual, sex magick & self-mutilation (радéния). I like words, my favourite: CUNT … 03:23 am (& if you're still reading this, well done!). 3,333.3. I don't like 4, 5 or 6 … I like the lunacy of silver moon's, terrestrial stars, White Dwarfs & celestial lights. ... Therapeutic Therapy in Syntax, it helps, a string of words (yes, self-absorbed, pity drivel) but it helps (couch, rat-man, little Hans, the professor, $$$, not needed) 05:01 am … A Pointless Biographical List: 31 years old, male, pathophysiological shyness, unemployed, 1985, library card carrier, OCD suffer, bibliophile, UFO enthusiasts, narcissi, Oedipus, amphetamine addict, alcoholic, cartoonist, dowser, “Special Needs” student, dyslexic, masochist, sadist, Shih Tzu lover, Jewish mystic, sarcastic bore, delusional, a benefits cheat, communist, occultist, fool, believer, unbeliever, with firm belief in nothing, egotistical brat, selfish, pervert, low-life & so on & so forth. … So Finally!: a Neurotic Mancunian Degenerate Primate, with artistic pretensions & problems. … 03:27 am, & a vainglorious member of the Inhuman Race. 

Saturday, 14 January 2017

GBL

I flick through a pharmacopoeia folded yellow paper highlights emerge, relapse - prolapse, so forth. The fish pie - furring over - a pale-green fur...SLIME! Shit stain sheets removed, intravenous – tapped, pumped full of benzodiazepines - sweat shimmer in the shite I stare at faces, nothing more! Back on the rack - back cracked and creaked with the rack - drip dripped I dwell and dwindled, act among the course - corned beef, with its anaemic skin. Odour – ammonia machinations, mentions Moorside, parallax projections paralysis follow - paranoiac projections etc., oral objections, fuck off the ward - resume, free up the rack, so to speak, drip will stop. Seeping pores - a slimy sweat, the ward took on a warped definition, clogging coiling tubes issuing out black blood beyond foolish despair, nightmares continued, old men died slowly farting as they went. Heart racing - pulse slow – skin a cracked desert of lines - I stared into them, deepened blue Stilton complexion - Pass out – burnt out boiling, so to speak, dreamless sleep followed, delirium puke – black formations – wasp-like whispers icy fire burning flesh - greasy Gamma seeping spewing shit - death linger language - nonsense now – visceral viscid heat ignite notions of abnormality - fucked finished, a nurse forces in another pricked cord, eyes take on a yellow hue - crawling skin - ashamed a smell rises falls - rises falls - filth disinfectant follows. Shit is a stubborn stain - matter matron? Matter? Made flesh renal repel fleshed out cropped warts withered mind muddled by obsessive compulsions - compulsive obsessions - slaughterhouse of retched inanities, noxious undernourished flesh taking on a green tint. Broken retention, drip still dripping – QUACK! Hydrochloric vomit reptilian yack - scratching the barrel - dry discharge -ethylene tickle unceasing. Passing out again, so to speak, vomit followed - hysterical – voicelessness - arctic flame - fiery flesh oily Gamma oozing faecal matter expiring communication tortured today – sticky heat erupt. Another nurse forces in another pricked line - eyes take on a pink hue - creeping peeling - numerous remarks – predictions - palsy followed. Paranoid projections pissed up the wall. The psyche is never hatched, nor does it ever cease, nor does it turn later state hatched. For it is unhatched, ageless, perpetual and primal even though the body is dead, the psyche is not – humiliation – mutilation stimulate neurotic obsessional - abattoir spasm - degrading malnourished - taking on a another tone, memory trickles till dripping intravenous - bound with tubing - cerebral – paralysis. I pause to record I feel retched of course always have. Enough! Humour withered - wired full of anxiolytic, stew shine in the shite I gaze, nothing more! Back on the frame, back chapped and creaking with the wrack the dribble dripped I brood, and diminish - pink eyes act among the course - cured meat - rind ripped raw - before its time - tiny little time - slippery secretion - the ward took on a another definition - spiralling tubes - absurd desperation - demented dreams continued. Elderly hands ceased quickly screaming as they went - pumped full - stuffed with cotton wool. Sheets still soiled – incrustations, streaked with silt -the bed-frame creaked with the rhythm of a spine - twisting deformation myriad of memories festering in the corners of a mind - encrusting insects crept across flesh. A conical shade protrusive steaming vegetation - stomach fluttering dry dust in a fine skim. The sleep I did get - was inconceivable in its delirium - Moorside followed.

Thursday, 22 December 2016

Obsessive Complications 9

Another day moon - blazing 7 am web folly forgotten locked in a private act night before a salient artefact - light unbroken peculiar frequency collides with prism – kaleidoscopical filth flux solar anus ruptured … another day another litre – tesco cheap coins exchanged with embarrassed smiles 8 am another day celestial crescent exiled satellite broadcasting mindless chatter across an electric blue sky I people mostly & animals also I realised that one would soon see the full magnitude – of the game of non-being being played out to drive one mad utterly mindless vacuous lunacy … a spectre: Ashtaroth looms malevolent - mother a knavish cunt gained upper hand again - again ... yhwh/elohim/divine creator/lord/god ... but fallen dead throne-less absent king senile madman one's deplorable thoughts unsuppressed a reasoning regression words null & void syntax & structure shat upon - linguistic fabrications form merge bubbling foamy slick slimy slippery vile concoction - liquefied language meaning without sense - sense rendered nonsense shrieking pink embryonic creature shrieking indefinitely 12 pm & here I am what day is it ... birth mama – matrix – most – mysterious … the panting stops distant & beyond normal logic - nonsense now - dust bluish celestial sphere immense demonic dominion chaotic order declared fear follows - paranoia-schizoid-position-depressive-abandon-obsessed-deluded-delusional-disorder & a race who sees it's self as a victim

Detox: Part 2

Morbid desire. Leucotomy pissed, walls crawling with lice and phosphorescence spiders, specks of delirium, a life liquidated. Aching viscus a preserved but empty spirit dying - liver secreting neon green bile. Foul formation, streaked with slimy shit. Creaking floorboards underfoot, twisting spiralling inward contortions, memories perverse - filthy festering in the toilet bowl, steaming shithole filth fauna, puking … third hour in. Brain-pan, sunken entangled infliction. Voices. Small cartoon pink elephant's float like children's balloons, condition rancid. Steaming rank - worse than shit. Dry retch pungent odour of sulphur. Weeping, muttering, forgiveness. Please. Saw-toothed - spit, lustrous brown sponge-like lungs expire, a saccharine vapour. Encephalopathy follows, greenish vomit. Maggot riddled bowls, withdrawal fierce – merciless. Pale plants decomposed in fast-forward. Ingrowing neurosis malady endless ... sleep just a seep – boil on neck swelling- secreting … raped chatter, internal - eternal – extreme screams … Fermented manure – brown-yellow piss excrete. Skin pimpled goose flesh – yellow. Eyes yellow vessels burst blood-shot, leaking toxic tears, pale slime snot issued out in streams. The floorboards covered in a skim of greying glutinous mucus – kneeling praying … spitting … swearing … sneezing out filth. Clotting black blood, incessant and hysterical still more screaming, congealing toxic slurry surging liquid shit. Choking up intestinal tissue, pinkish white tripe - marrow excretion, fragmentation thoughts fermenting fragrant rancid, phlegm luminous green. Pernicious warped words issue out!   

Friday, 16 December 2016

Detox

My only visible humane characteristic was a pathological craving for alcohol. Chemically lobotomised. My job lost, my family far away, a philosophy degree piss up a wall in a metaphysical liquidation. Only a word to cast into the dying void, an aching liver a dried up soul. Something had to give, so the drinking stopped...An epiphany, perhaps?
I drifted towards the dark heart of detox with a trembling fatigue, stretched out on my bed sweating out my soul, braced for the lance of five year boil. The alcoholic depressant was drawn out in a steady stream, as five weeks issued out in fragments:
Week 1: A circle of pain seeps around the cranium, submerged in a entanglement of black thorn and vascular vines. Voices whisper as the light bulb glows intensely bursting like a blister - flickering pink butterflies in a flutter out into the atmosphere. Head dipped into the bucket beside the bed, his cackling retch igniting an acrid smell of sulphur as his stomach consumed itself - catalysis combustions – insomnia the works.
Week 2: It started with a sneeze - several times in succession – flecking the bedsheets in luminous snot - peppermint green. Demented hallucinations enmesh the bedroom walls - creeping ivy - beryl moss and belladonnas - coiling dreams - chills shakes, an a cysts the size of crystallised oyster. His flesh tissue now fluoresce yellow, and an uncontrollable tremor – insistent. As Sunday night sprouts into Monday morning.
Week 3: The sheets where filthy – incrustations, streaked with silt. The bed-frame creaking with the rhythm of the spine, twisting contortions. A myriad of memories festering in the corners of his mind, encrusting crabs crept across his flesh. A conical lampshade protruding from the steaming vegetation of the carpet - casting a huge moth upon the ceiling fluttering dry dust in a fine skim across otherwise sticky week. What little sleep he did get - was imaginable in its delirium.
Week 4: Uneventful, but for two points in particular. 1) Unfurling from TV screen in a amusing manner, a pink tongue flaccid and furring over within seconds like piece of ripe fruit, decaying in fast-forward. 2) A Venus fly-trap rising from a bundle of cables - serrated teeth,
glistening green it's spongy lungs exhaling a sweet smelling vapour..The week concluding with epileptic fits and more green puke. A Phosphorescent worm burrowed in the fifth, as the withdrawal dwindled.
He Gazed at the once white lilies on the window ledge - a shade of cognac brown now. The ingrown psychosis somewhat cropped...Sickness subsided...delusions, just a seep - clearing up with the cysts...his reptilian cackle – a distant hiss... Friday fermented into a soft vegetation. He lay there shimmering away in his own juices, a smile creeping across his face. The worse was over.
He Rolled in his bed from left to right, right to left, twisting the sheets into a moist cocoon, and fell into a deep perverse sleep. Hours of vomiting, ending in a strange euphoria.

Thursday, 20 October 2016

Special K

Psychedelically shit-faced,
giggling acetylcholically
pissed. Magic unfurls -
layers peeling back layers.
Ab..hib..har..ma - mythic multitasking,
manipulation, the meadows marching.
Wringing sweat - self-experimentation
unspeakable, unstable insight,
dimensionally formed module
constructions, horse shit - hay - the meadows
& unspeakable delight. The K
comes on in an orange fuzz.
A picture-within-a picture,
unfolding, endless profundity,
& this is only 5 minutes in.
Sepia flecked shade, yellow paved,
anaesthesia follow the meadows
morphs into a vast rational entity.
Speckled arabesque botanist peeps
into us - contact through the veil,
or an - amphetamine psychosis
forming foam slimy from
fabrication – fornication, broken
words. Liverish incubus, & the K unfurls
consciousness coiling, motor-functions
delayed - The inner body is meticulously
rendered - not just anatomically,
mentally shard crystalline – a voice: where're here!
PacMan has liberated himself from the machine.
The pills dissolve away, flesh
- white – slimy slug-gastropod -
jelly clinging to the flesh - worms tunnel,
& teeth like glass.
Non-electric signals replace
speech” now post-verbal,
renal troubles follow, the trees
cruelly mimicking motions.
A passion for mechanical things
a fearless loop. White dreamless
dreams follow lucidity, I lie
in bed racing through space.

Saturday, 4 June 2016

Estate:4013

The Estate is growing over in dense roots and poisonous flowers cover everywhere. The derelict flats infested with mutated cockroach's, silver fish and an few thousand sick or deranged junkies. A nuclear jungle - breeding gangs, trash-men, speed freaks, hairy apes, cyanogenetic crews, mercenaries, mongs, mongrels crazed with rabies, babies, femme fatal ladies, bloodthirsty pirates, huge rats consuming cats, perverts and every paraphilia know to man and machine. A galaxy of gods, cults, hooligans, hoodlums and hobo's, too name a few. A collective industrial industry: I Tom or TPT, watch, record, collect data for “them” above, and so on and so forth. I observe beasts ganging raping whole communities, I see flowers devouring lost drunks, whilst a nuclear core melts. From “new births” to badgers the size of bears. The plant coolant towers stand like twin giants frozen in time. Relics of times long past. Moulding streets stinking of stale ozone like an infested fridge packed with rotting meat. They were plagued with mutated spiders, militant – millepede's, centipedes of monumental dimension. Clotted avalanches and acid (LSD, Sulphuric) rain. At least a million mutations of everything from man and beast a like, packs of abandoned pets showing signs of toxic mutation. Man-eating packs of wild cannibal kids that have contended with everything from centipedes to paedophiles. Epidemics, pandemics, plagues, unionised sex pests and predators of every variation drugs of every kind used and abused everyone - everywhere. Awe-inspiring spores of fungi, gigantic Fly Agaric mushrooms excreting hallucinogenic phosphorus protoplasm causing streams of toxic slime through the streets of Neo-Trafford. Madhouses, bedlams, asylums - sedating the sane by sinister intent. Killing sprees sponsored by intergalactic shadow governments. Green slime covering the children's playgrounds and parks. Ripe garbage filling ancient stadiums stinking worse than human shit. Alleys that never end. Adolescent motorcycle gangs, depravity – multi-religious advancement twisting minds in arabesques patterns, etc. etc. I observe a tramp convulsing in an derelict shop doorway. A gang banger had just finished his trepanning procedure, the bored hole in the tramp’s skull was which now pumping out pink brain matter. Black sky's where neurotic deities piss, shit, fight and fuck. Voodoo witches, rampant cannibals and extraterrestrials everywhere. I observe a Gypsy women sitting at a park bench, she sits shuffling her Tarot cards, casting terrifying curses upon the corrupt and innocent alike. Sadism spreads like wild fire leaving Masochism as a dry ash....Clinical communities produce
Methamphetamine on an industrial scale. “It’s the gas in them pipes.” “It’s the electricity in all them wires; it’s the smile on ya face.” Strange sterile energy from the clay hovels. I observe corpses laying dead in strange postures – twisted modification, bloated, butchered. Perverts Mechanics prowl the cobbled streets and guilty moors for whores, abandoned children, stripping the flesh from their tiny bones. The whores are beaten, then sodomised and shat on. I observe the sun rising like a practical joke. I observe semen dripping down the ergot infested corn where it dries and becomes brittle like old bones. I observe things you Humans wouldn't believe. I observe Chaos.

Part 2

I observe.
I never miss a days event. I am the Technologically Advanced Peeping Tom. Year Four, Day of the Sun. Heatwave draws in madness. The concrete blistered up, then scabbed over, and now it's all seeping puss, blood puddles - all that gangrene shit furring over pale green fuzz. Tumble weed a rollin. The estate stinks, a reek of pure death lingers. Sulphur. Hell fire. The constant chatter of many broken Mancunian accents, slang, and gibberish, broken chew on then spat out. Patwah so silly you laugh. A sorta Merican southern twang patters ere and there then back ta a bastardised Patwah. “Di wulla dem a stakki!” shouts a black albino as if at God. The man holds tight an amoral lookin TEC-9, a mixture of stamped and milled steel parts. The simplistic design of the semi-automatic made it easy to repair and modify; blowback-operated, chambered in 9x19mm Parabellum. It was the weapon of choice among blacks, a CIA invention some say, to keep the Negro population to a minimum in them way out lands of America, the once vast kingdom, inferno – heat, now a vast desert I think. Not like this congested cesspit. I sometimes think about Outside, about other settlements and so called city life, if one could call it: life. “Call it a depraved Grand Master plan,” spat a law man, “A higher aged Intelligence, now seemingly bored of the welfare of society as meekness and patience mutated into Hate and depravity, was what replaced the former gifts of a great demented King better known as the Cohesive Intelligence. Its a trait of complete control over man for reasons unknown. Its Encephalon a vast black network, sometimes you can see it, some say it resembles the Man o' War Jelly, but of unspeakable size - it no longer shy to show its soul and its flesh: Father of man, from yonder years. Books say most humans where Atheists, heathens, faithless slime crying to a metaphor. What emerged before them saw their so called metaphor in all its full glory of the infinitive - mad eplipetic Mahomet-Jellyfish. Your entity enters a second Game, and then it begins” the law man looks up to the sky. Tom: All that unknown knowns for many an hour, likes it too, his mind's loose sentence. But back too the nigger, a ruthless henchman by the name of Gian Luigi Ferri. He mutters under his breath, “Gyal yuh pum pum tun up,” as he patrols his patch of concrete. He suddenly drops to one knee, TEC-9 outstretched, aimed at an emerging pack of wild sewerage children as they run and scatter in all directions. He raises from his knee, laughing, before dropping his strides and shat on the concrete. He shouts out to the sky, “Go suck yuh madda!” Tom: It sets my digital mind wondering again, does the Supreme Being ave a Mother? Gian still stood there in his place muttering to himself. An abandoned shop window bursts suddenly, a tall black man stands just visible in the dark, holding a bat of some kind, then drops out of sight. Caught off guard, Gian spins around an opens up his weapon spraying 36 rounds of cheap Yankee firepower, blindly peppering the building. The smoke clears. Pure luck he caught the brain-sick loon, fatally shot in the head by the lead spraying shrapnel. He must have ducked by the ledge but fatally exposed the crown of his skull, as the sun beat off it. By chance of his height his boiled egg head was now an undercooked spilt skull oozing red yolk. It was not yet past 7am, Tom - monitor and observe. If only it was just that. What panoramas can I voyeuristic-ally molest this afternoon? In Manchester's most fascinating bacterial smear stain, among many other city observed and ensnared and experimented on by formless entity's or high all mighty deity, with a warped doctrine. It was sometime around 11am staring into a children's park where the only things breathing was the dozen or more drug stricken man and women sitting squeezed in steel benches, covered in slick lime green puke, a contorted gaggle with about about forty intravenous tube wiring drips disappearing into arms, legs and orifices -the tranquil collective slowly breathing – nodding in unison, almost hypnotic Tim thought, as it's lid half light and drooping - half second dilated still zooming from a sudden explosion. Five minutes past before the white smoke cleared, the benches and climbing frames gore covered slowly dripping down into blood soaked gravel nothing else remained of the junkies, a ringing sound of vibrating steel never ceased. About two hours later another gang of junkies sleepwalked into the park... they all slowly sat down on the shining red benches before screaming in harmony arses sizzling grill like - on the white hot benches welding them down - arse and hands some pulling free peeling away their flesh in a white agony, melted fat forming into thick grease in minutes. The screeching ceased, about four hours later, now just a low whimpering. A light wind cooled their barbecued buttocks. The three that pull free left the park with 90 degree burns, their first time a real need for all that smack. another explosion cleansed the children's area of all but steaming steel in white heat, bone nor blood remained this time. Tom with its advanced nano technology settled - on the activity of crack smokin' crew of bloodthirsty gang-bangers, who where now in pursuit of six pallid white naked men across the fens, there loins wagging and flapping rudely, eyes wide like spooked horses, tears streaming like schoolgirls, the blacks had now finally caught up with them, and encircled them cackling like hyenas, grown men now not much but pathetic frightened boys - all huddle together cupping their loins - weeping bitches, piss flowing down their flanks. Gang grinned before this here grand spectacle. Not a word spoken. Cackling went mute. As four huge tall blacks covered the round up men still trembling. Now under great cotton shroud, next a black with quick hands bound them up with a wiry thin rope - pull taut, the gang arranged themselves in line then then took five paces back, before rising around twenty aimed TEC9 semi-automatic pistols discharged - crackling spray of gunfire ripping into their target, peppered with bloody smoking holes, folded over its self, strange looking thing – grotesque. Huge bulging bag of dead meat – heap. The sack now absorbed completely in warm blood, the the firing ceased as magazines unclipped and hit ground – red hot barrels smoking as hundreds discharged shells cooled where they lay “Ah suh di ting tan, yuh cyaa duh nutt'n bout itt!” Spat the the leader, as he dosed the cellulose looking thing with petrol, then tossed in a match, and stepped back. an engulfing flame bellowed in the wind cracking as the leader spat at the fire before falling back in line, ending there cruel ritual in the mid-day sun...Tom droned through the air like some large dis-bodied glass eye – taking in vast amounts of data from the scene, feeding itself – a parasitical conscience device. Tom had halted above a hell below. A shit garden had opened it hole for the sick a needy a Coprophilia feast. Fermenting waste heaving with maggots for burying alive the defeated and weak who's flesh fuelled the under-lords who in turned fuelled higher-lords, who in turn fuelled the citizens existence of trash by expanding their TV channels rotting minds faster pumping out radiation with more soul decaying, vacuous and gross game shows of every-kind. Turning water into white cider, which caused their heads to shrink. “Be the first to imitate your idols for this week you can for a limited time become a housewife of Beverly hills and observe a holocaust from front row seats at the Trafford Centre multiplex!” adverts reeled endlessly.

'Tom?' a west Texan neo-entity, hopped on a stray radio wave, inquired,”Quit you god damn sick-voyeuristic glorified CCTV lens or I'll.....fu...ck....in.... ill ......y..e, it seems like the line broke and white nigger got choked.

Part 3

TPT:The Peeping Tom

Tom - CCTV, 5th Generation wireless camera the all seeing Eye. Telekinesis monitors minds and playback for analyses, raw data – implant memories in a endless algebra of perverse twisted peep-shows and then make then make them a reality of sort, but the mind control Tom can preform on humans, is endless in its possibilities, it can weave in and out of men's minds for weeks reeling out whole stories, dreams, nightmares, madness and invent new complex disorders of the mind. Algorithmic programmed-computer is an artificial intelligence agency, more commonly called “Tom” it/he became multi-functional in observing on and in the ESTATE covering every last inch of Manchester, K. on November 3rd 4013, designed by a higher god whose name is lost and history unknown, some suspect it was a cosmic mistake or an experiment with desire that failed, and then was abandoned...Tainted matter that learned too live piss and shit fuck and murder before being enslave by a wayward god with its on twisted machinations. Tom is capable of many functions, such as speech, speech mimicking, speech recognition, dialect recognition, facial recognition, lip reading, interpreting emotions, expressing emotions, Psychological Operations or PSYOP are planned operations to convey selected information and indicators to audiences to influence their emotions, all data substance siphon - consumption - enhancing – preserving – maintaining – controlling – defending – positive stimulus – negative stimulus – Hate – creating – mutating – war – drugs – perversion ad-Infinitum - god – devil – heaven – hell – life - death – To Serve are Godhead: Encephalon – bl ack Ne two rk )( for district M 3 3 4 b y territory Manchester-Encephalon - “Humans the Livestock of G.O.D go forth and eat your children hate your brothers and multiply your Anachronistic perversions warp your grain of earth - land – and your death will bring forth your souls before an Intergalactic Pig for its flesh will feed your slaves for building your own private Kingdom be it a heaven or a hell. Dog who art thou God deliver us to the abominable paradise now forge a domain from the shit of Christ Amen.






Thursday, 24 March 2016

Cut-Up: Calculating Cultural Waste

Goose-stepping municipal waste into the ground, the mechanism driven by pressing currents of sexual excitation uncontrolled forces minds driven mad men women screaming in the straitjackets brains bashed by batons pink matter seeps from cracked skulls rose pink however fragmentary the souls deserved reshaping hard machines deliver shocking murders cracking Christian skulls in two, explosive heads bursting into pink petals blue veins immaculate shards of Ketamin cutting through liver-less species laughing hysterically cured tuberculoid freaks out of style you will enjoy your lifeless brute roughly comparable stages in all children 'Social Monster' but Jesus said it is imposable for a rich man to be good -  multisecular  stability - primeval slime languages should fail.

Cracking skulls causing matter to splatter but they each assign to such terminal string unrestricted rewriting symptoms I feel old, old or even older ancient worship of the Golden Calf, Geraniums grow and grow they pre-existed from time immaculate humiliation mutilation maximum overdrive.

Dimensions old bloated space rocket white with purple tip, fractured day broken looking glass as Alice shatters into a thousand pieces tiny white spiders consumed eyes. Nymphomaniac obnoxious obscene motherfuckers! Who fuck up you, me anyone, hung smoked umbilical-cords, deep fried liver, cured meat man slaughter, a bit of Irish soil blood and vomit mandrake root screams as its pulled free from the soil, green buds burn, turd! Needle passed through a camels eye ,cut-up, cut-down, cut it the fuck up!

America interrupted Yahweh Live TV News to announce the tragic transmission-loss resulting in bacterially exhausted natives, who are not convinced with white fanged hissing of the million strong Proteansisssisyphean movement, vivid colours are contrasted against mottled hues lending a kinetic sublime vibrancy to a tiny asylum cell, compulsive urge of the oil painter expresses the primal destiny latent in the medium, plus to comprehend the psychological layering we must peel back the membranes to observe the axiomatic complexities of the male subjects perverse anatomy.

Absent placenta, umbilical cord – dried and cured, the botched second coming was inevitable,
'I prefer not to understand what is going on around me, making it easier to impose my own subjective image upon the external world.', it said with pain, isolation, hate.

The Lumpen-Intelligentsia had its position set firmly in the form of physical
hostility towards the 'Neurology Advancement' departments, waves of cluster migraines plus
bending of antenna-aerials causing optimum irritation of its central nervous system seldom ceased,
beads on the abacus of our calculations is the way of the manipulator, sliding minds into evermore endless algebra of stupidity, time, space – neither life nor death is the solution.

Psycho-physiologically polymorphous multi-formed men and women preside the invisible hierarchies of inner physics, amphetamine is used for hyper-stimulating the psychosexual – scatological primal slime of the higher hierarchies, who push forth in their ceaseless pursuit in constructing some labyrinth from within that can contain Horus, and experiment upon his eye in the pursuit of maximum surveillance of the population.


Unreal man'ipulator, mottled bovine skull, meat puppets plucked postures, sleep starve citizens of transsexual secret solicit society's. Children smoke white dragons tin silver flutes. Polymorphous perverted men – women vomit. 

Monday, 15 February 2016

Decay

The mucus was getting worse, my lungs seemed to be putrefying, I was coughing up wads of pale green secretions, my fingernails were split, eyes black seeping slime from pornography. My spirit, my psyche writhed from morning to night, in the simple search of itself. A black hole. A slug. I pulled of my inhaler sucking up the steroids into my decayed wind-bags. A clutter in my head, the assorted mixture of emotions, still searching for some kind of soul. What kind of man have I grown into? I need not raise my head from the floor to know that the same nothingness as before was to greet me. I was covered in snail spittle paths...I eyeballed Jesus Christ with a wink begging his tolerance...the shitty crucifix fell off the nail where it hit the my bedroom floor and shattered. A disgraceful matter chaotic, lacking the ability to render any will or state. While contemplating this I rolled a painfully thin cigarette and draw on it till the nub. Causing a chronic endless retching cough. After which I made coffee sat down and tried to think rationally, failed, failed, failed, failing, fail, my thought loop processed it's angry lobe a thick walled asexual spore deformed fungi fuck-up. He daydreamed of a lobotomy, and drank black steaming brew.   

Monday, 8 February 2016

Lush

Panic-stricken sliding beneath my skin like sleek needles beneath the flesh. Hands rattling, eyes bloodshot, skin a greenish yellow – liver emerald green. He gulped a mouthful of Vodka just to see straight, he crawled out if his pit, he had pissed the bed, but a shower was out of the question – his skin was to sensitive to water the thought gave him a skin crawling sensation. He pissed out along brown stream into the steaming bowl then flushes. Then suddenly starting vomiting and shitting himself. Like a punch to the liver he hits the tiled floors covered in rank fluids...This was a new low – rock bottom, he got up searching for something to drink, he found a bottle of Turpentine and rabidly downed the bottle, suddenly he collapsed again before projectile vomiting phosphorus green sick everywhere, falling into a deep delirium – 'Toxicity homo sapiens rigorous calculate industrial pollution from unnatural evolution of the alcoholic human waste deaddeaddeaddead,' he droned, before a rapid spine snapping skull rupturing convulsion finished him off.

Saturday, 6 February 2016

One...Two...Three

sacred Lord the One formed in radical solitude secularization psyche via psychoanalysis – poly-schizo-morbity pathologised by the tight super-unity of the id ego & superego – Father Son & the Holy Ghost One...Two...Three this was Moon's mantra he stepped into his bleach bath to cleanse himself he jerked of in the bath over nothing special the spunk seeped out in a fine skim of slimy silk worms washed away pulling the plug & dried his burning greasing body he focused on the vortex of water while he repeated mentally his mantra One...Two...Three dry he now set to the exhausting ritual of scrubbing his teeth, which he did everyday for and hour exactly gums raw as sushi he spat out wad of pink froth next he dressed mental rituals still running consciously...always next black coffee how he adored this common joy along with a line of amphetamine up lifing his obsessional neurotic nature he headed to his study to write he sensed nervously a slight sense of well being (this being uncommon) naturally put it down to the speed....couple hours later writing he got up for a shit after which he ritually showered while whispering under his breath One...Two...Three...

Tin-Foil

He had wrapped himself from head to toe in tinfoil and removed his fillings – holes for eyes and mouth, pupils pin pricks. House: a one bedroom flat which was entirely covered in tinfoil, between his head a constant orchestra of voices, a high pitched hiss – static. He had created some kinda remote scanner out of an old PC. His senses where of such high pitch, he could smell insects squiming. The room was periodically lit up 24/7 bright as day by blue flare strobing blasts of high frequency electricity through the air, he began wearing a huge antenna on his foiled head. Absorbing all cathartic investigation into the blackened reiteration of psychic institutions, in short it worked. He had developed a whole host of involuntary ticks that chinked his foil – duct taping followed. As well as his enhancement of control of his 'Remote Con', which he used mainly for the manipulation of his spiders which riddled the place. The bath tube alone was full of lices and cockroachs, literally to the brim - many mechanical. He spends his day's and night's pro-trolling his flat with an enlarged eye-glass. Beetles magnified to the size of rats. Flanked and faced by this deafening one-dimensionality, he rolls his bulging eyes to heaven. His lungs start to inflate with the noxious insecticide gas he pumps out causing his brain to inflate bursting blood vessels - membranous surface's burst causing an extreme nose bleed, it pisses out everywhere causing him to slip and slid on his foil floor. He gets the mop and bucket to clean up. After four hours he collapses with a cluster headache killing him, the insects vanish.