Hums, and trills, or spills!
Waves, in perfect frequencies,
Fed into me.
And, down, deeply.
It grows to show,
I am a part of these,
Vibrations, and lives. The trees.
Seas; "the gathering green"!
Hands clasped, against or for.
Its all the same; giving.
Touch.
This is how I know I will be, and not be specifically one or two, but always everything.
FEATURING Exiles from Larks's Tongues in Aspic.
26 September 2010
19 September 2010
RAMEN!

MAKE DINNER LIKE A LAZY ASIAN MOM!
1 badass ramen kit of choice
Sum green onions, chopped.
Sum mushrooms, quartered.
1/3 block 'o tofu, chopped.
Sum bean sprouts.
1 egg.
BOIL WATER. PUT IN NOODLES, PACKET, VEGGIES, TOFU.
COOK 'TIL THINGS R DUN.
ADD EGG.
STIR AND SLURP!
15 September 2010
14 April 2010
The universe, experiencing itself in different ways.
The Sun,
As it yawns across the sky,
Moving among the Moon and Stars,
Warms the hands of the Earth.
From innumerable fingers stretching;
Thick, brown, frothed peat and mud,
Death and rot. Life and Filth, green and pure rise forth.
Held up by these great, cracked mired, and worn hands
To kiss the arc of the universe.
Skyward, they are moved, without themselves.
Forgetting their pedestal; swaying in the Sun's heat.
Craving and starving for it's light.
At last, at the top, hand in hand with Sun and Stars
They burn and fall away
as the Moon creeps out in the coming darkness
to guide the Hands that catch Their ashes.
As it yawns across the sky,
Moving among the Moon and Stars,
Warms the hands of the Earth.
From innumerable fingers stretching;
Thick, brown, frothed peat and mud,
Death and rot. Life and Filth, green and pure rise forth.
Held up by these great, cracked mired, and worn hands
To kiss the arc of the universe.
Skyward, they are moved, without themselves.
Forgetting their pedestal; swaying in the Sun's heat.
Craving and starving for it's light.
At last, at the top, hand in hand with Sun and Stars
They burn and fall away
as the Moon creeps out in the coming darkness
to guide the Hands that catch Their ashes.
22 March 2010
10 March 2010
02 March 2010
I like Elves. So, FUCK YOU!
"For the Elves the world moves, and moves both very swift and very slow. Swift, because they themselves change little, and all else fleets by: it is a grief to them. Slow, because they do not count the running years, not for themselves. The passing seasons are but ripples ever repeated in the long long stream. Yet beneath the Sun all things must wear to an end at last."
-Legolas, on time travel.
-Legolas, on time travel.
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