|the jumble of bones in the crawl-space. the humble of bones.
||[Dec. 30th, 2004|12:35 pm]
|||||clay & saffron (black widow)||]|
|||||crown me king- house's hue||]|
colours do seem to thrive don't they? i sense there is some secret there, some important insight. these throbbing shades. at its very core colour is a deciet, right? i mean, everything is the opposite of what you see. everything in the real world is film negative. eyeballs pick up the wavelengths the fabric rejects, the flawed instruments. but of course, since without that reflection, there would be no colour at all, the whole point is kind of compromised. i wonder what frankenstein's monster saw? i suppose it doesn't matter. sometimes i just try to guess at things that are real. i usually end up stumped, stem-cell research? is that real? fuck, i don't know. there isn't any other solution to come up with. the only conclusion to come to is to burn it all down & see whats left. acid rain? real or not, ripley? tell me, i dare you! o now i'm getting worked up. i think when i told jenny i had a head full of catapillars, that nailed it. perhaps they will molt into butterflies & i'll be left with some kind of gift. a crown, maybe? leukimia? a lottery ticket? so yeah, here i am with my hands cradling this squirming thought. some kind of formless idea. maybe its a neurolinguistics thing. maybe language is why i'm left with clumsey words like "heaven." i really don't...i mean haunted mansion. i mean empire of blood & brains. h.r. geiger...no, albrecht duhr! i wish i could just find some kind of tear to pull at. i've thrown up my hands in frustration so many times. just like i gave up on the dinosaurs, maybe i'll give up on humans. o i think i'll wait until the next empire, until the synthetic intellegences & post-humans have hatched from their eggs. fuck will you listen to me? what am i even talking about? i'm just trying to say "i'm not alone," but that it is the loneliest kind of company you can imagine. colourless & without wavelength. un-kissable.