When the eye sees the bandit…
When the eye sees the bandit grinding the rails with his boots, it lights itself on fire and self-destructs creating a massive rip in the sky that exposes the inner darkness of the dark lord’s anus. Nobody knows if the comet will collide with Earth, but if it does, let’s celebrate and light ourselves on fire like we’re attending a gender reveal party. Trees are covered with grey spots that reveal where the bugs of modern life have been hibernating, but the birds are blind to the fact that they cannot see eye to eye with the Procyon asylum seekers and vulpes activists who need the shelter of the thick trunks to hide from the cruel nature of the red and brown whip. Sodomy will not suffice, the chances of a newborn baby covered in mucus-like fungi are slim, and the lips of the universe pucker as the sun keeps revolving around a chocolate spike that cannot be seen under a microscope. Autumn is the color of life and the meaning of everything, and there is so much to learn from the blur of what is said at a funeral party when the lights are as dim as the moon when covered by thick gray clouds and the crickets have stopped playing their sacred violins while hopping along the grass surrounding the corpse of eve. Tails and heads are arbitrary when it comes to the design of the lock system that the gatekeeper provides during a game of chess. Fluid motion is curated by dancers who have premium access to exclusive rights that the zombies from the ground level of a building wish they could attain. Kings are falling down the stairs, breaking their backs on the way down, and Tokyo is under attack as well as Paris. Never mind the fact that the analysis is a load of shite. If you get it, you get it. If you don’t, you don’t. There is no in-between. Three o’clock in the morning. Witches are now abundant. You are a ghost in the anus of the supernatural god of the crimson thunderstorm.
Written by Not Another Lost Episode
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