The Wax Conspiracy

suddenly... music

[Thoughts] travel along brain cells that twist and shift information, that turn back on themselves like boiled sweets hung on a hook and stretched. Chiral loads[v], in D- and L- configurations, in R- and S- configurations, racemixed towards systemic failure.

It’s a strange place this, this town called diphtheria. Struggle to breathe, struggle to take a shit. Bulls; bull necks. The trouble breathing is the worst, though when that lactic acid builds up and it hurts to get up, there’s no making the [redacted] 41010.

What is this magical place where the earth meets the sea? Lean in, you fucking simpletons. Shemomedjamo, [Georgian], to eat past the point of fullness because the food is so good. This is the situ but with thoughts acting as deep-pan pizza – cue goggle-eyed Americans.

Untethered from life, distanced from trivialities and lost in a soup of faux-philosophising and -contextualising and -cultural studying, distance builds in Planck area-units, and the risk becomes realer than real of looking like a metaphor in a Calvino book.

On the razzle, pony hustlin’, when suddenly! Music! Clicks and swirls created, owned and disseminated by its creators. For a buck, no less. I was engrossed in the film without really watching. Said, "who's the guy with the gun?" as if I was involved. Yes, yes, yes – to Earth!

Belvedere Jehosophat

Written on Friday, 14 March 2014

The Wax Conspiracy

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