It reminds me of David Firth, but has a very unique style and has some very sound insight into the way our world works (or doesn't work
Oh, and Happy New Year


Ogres in the CastleShe tossed her head to rid her inky hair of the rain that was falling in buckets outside. As the door opened it trilled grudgingly, half cuckoo-bird and half wind-chime; a man behind a finger-print smeared countertop looked at her with weary, bloodshot eyes. Outside the rain beat upon the storefront like an angry god. It was a halogen-lit castle in a mighty storm.Ogres in the Castle
The woman looked down at her wrist, a sliver of silver lettering glowed on her skin in response to the turn of her palm. 3:38 AM. She too, like the clerk, was tired and weary, but her wear was from another big drug-crash. She dripped on the black and white tiled floor,


life jazz deathMy mind a jungle smelling warm and biotic asymptotic rays of day clotting in caught sunlightlife jazz death
thoughts striped tigers prowling feeding marking territory with scents of semen and lust and life
cocaine romance drips off of every bough only to be absorbed into cocoa-colored ground
music courses through green interstices – stitched together with meteor showers: falling spectral holograms
pain - a flagrant fire molten in the eyes of a beast – a dark temple; worshippers chanting doom
anatomic anni


Barbarian ReduxMy finger traced a swirl of condensation on the bar-top; it had dripped off the tall glass of beer in front of me. I rubbed my tired eyes with weary fingers. The bar was pretty empty, being just far enough outside of the downtown core that the crowd was mostly here for the VLT’s. They were sad looking men and women, pressing the shiny little buttons, feeding the random-reward addiction. I could imagine big, ropy tentacles sticking out of the machine, really feeding their brain pleasure in response to the presses. Regardless, their addictions seemed to mix together quite nicely here. Clouds of nicotine slow-death were in the air, anBarbarian Redux


ApocalipsI’m driving bug-eyed down this lost highway. Lights excite my pupils – passing cars like shadows in this sultry night. Datura, that black bitch, she was winged and following closely. She must think me a fool, striding across this desert in my metal steed. She must think me mad.Apocalips
I had escaped the grips of her talons with nothing but sheer balls-to-the-wall trickery and violence. Now I was on the open road, in this suffocating heat. It tasted like sweltering freedom. Open spaces where one was free to lose their mind, where dead prisoners became heaps of white bone at random desert junctures.
Datura, my terrible Datura,
Le Fluer

RoleplayIt was hot, the night I sold my soul. Well it would be, with the Devil in town. The rain had held in the heat of the day and steam rose from the asphalt, softening the hard light of the streetlamps that lined my path. I had walked, until I found you. Standing at the corner, inconspicuous, steam and rain and dust-choked air the smoke and mirrors hiding you, making sure you were noticed only by me. Noticed only because I was looking for you. You were an actor, a showman, a puppeteer. And always, I was your captivated audience. I couldn’t remember where we had first met, or how. Memory had blurred our encounters into a haze of headyRoleplay
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"Churchill, if I were your wife I would put poison in your drink."
"Madam, if you were my wife I would drink it."
The odd story I guess, but you already knew that
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This is an information infection: communolimbus.
Thanks for sharing your talent
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<3
Cheers
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This is an information infection: communolimbus.
Gotta watch you!
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A little misinformation goes a long way.
My Poetry: =MSJames
My Stock: ~MSJ-Stock
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This is an information infection: communolimbus.
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~*Apophysis ~*Ultra-Fractal ~~DeviousFractals
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Breaking entering
The dark and lonely places
Finding a big gun
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A smile today might save the world tommorow.
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