gimme the slightest of praise, i dare ya - i'll write until my fingers fall off

shifting efflorescence leaves a trace in time and the mind it defines.

all those aligned to the angle of perception are greeted by the mangled design of conception - biology is inseperable from chaotic phrenology.

mine is a sign of the changing tides, confined to the lines of deception.

but now is the kind of benign strato-vines that malign all sense of desperation.

music:
my-experience-with-alpaca
pyrrhic-victory 1 2 3 4
i-scare-people-away 1
object-oriented-music 1

notes (not all of them):

Perception begets reality... and lo! we only see what we want to see.

If you've ever felt like you were closer to another mind than your own, sorry but... you're schizophrenic.

how simple is the vain who mandates that others, must fall on their knees be fore-us.

great power is there in worship, but power is penance and repentance is scant among those chosen

how perfect are we! that frolic with the, flowers in the garden of eden?

under a great tree, stand those we call "me", and together we see to the horizon.

lines are impermeable, yet waves we can muster the smallest of great affectations

and will is the way, wherever we may, focus our bravest of intentions.

Written by Ritz Menardi