it depends on perspective. Up close the time creeps along. Far away yesterday becomes today.
yes, sitting at the core of an advanc3ed super-computer there appears the clarity of haze.
and yes, tweak-twist-turn…
Wow!
(giggle)
so easy to be.
To write. To read. To be.
“Yep. A good day.”
“munch munch munch crunch crunch crunch…”
Good stuff. Mayo and sticky shells
From a place called, Greenland. Oh so sweet, tasty and good.
and then, to see them see themselves with demon eyes
while through an angel
to understand they could.
Not bad.
its got a spider.
and trains.
and trees.
the mind saw the A.I. Worpress prompt as, “Where would you go on a killing spree?” And of course the answer was simple and easy: Earth.
However, after seeing it was a more useless and mundane question of, “Where would you go on a shopping spree?” The answer is easy and would be, Bob’s House of Guns, Gore, and Guts.
A small but humble shop dealing with tons of ammunition (one can never have enough ammo). They also sell flame throwers, land-mines, howitzers, and small tactical nukes small enough to fit in a small container such as a Uber tooling around in New York City (coming soon to a metropolis near you.)
But what Bob’s House of Guns, Gore, and Guts REALLY has that is absolutely delicious is the testes of alligators that have been soaked in a dill brine. Shit…That shit can be eaten with Wonder bread slathered with hog grease, hot sauce and a shitload of pickled alligator balls. Fucking YUMMY!
Absolutely heavenly. And recently they sent out a cyber coupon for spicy chicken lips and lizard tails soaked in pineapple sauce. Buy one get one free.
Damn…
Hunger brings out the best in me.
Nope.
answer me this, why?
there is no bravado, no lie. Taint ever more than wonderful, the smell of lavender.
God has such humor. Ha. So wonderful yet.
i smile because i have too.
Nothing can ever shake or change of come close to what’s inside.
(yes. the mind.)
To write is a way of communication as well as being the perfect conduit to dispose of insanity.
Are you a writer? Yes? No? (fuck it, it’s a freee word in which to die.”
Why?
Why write when a world is nothing more than a prison. An illusion. A purgatory of some religious bullshit?
To write means change.
To put letter to word brings clarity.
To , to. to.
too
two
(burp)
i love it.
(thanks God)
News.
while there is such a stupid battle inside
to hack and whack
to be
to see
to accept
to deny.
(Oh you …. … …)
right?
I am for the record, under nothing more the the influence of what it is to be.
inside/outside
and yet still, (fuck time)
i will never stop loving you, for whatever and ever the reason, why.
“The crazy shit you see while driving across the country.”
What is inside? Inside the human mind.
“Saddle up the mule.”
“Oh fuck these site.”
*
Intermission
(
)
(
what ‘s up?
I can never forget and yet and yet and yet, there is no regret.
the best
the greatest
ever could i can
or ever could try to bring to muster
the kis.s.s.s.s.
(whee)
wow…
(sigh)
“you sick retard?”
No parasite… Honestly. The exact opposite.
“High?”
Ha! You think?
“Leave my twinkies alone.”
*
Rob Zombie
rocks.
fuck… man… let me tell you what.
“What?”
i at-this-exact-second, own fucking time.
wonderful.
Monsters and aliens,
fried chicken, “Bucbucbuc baaaa.”
(have to say it: your sweet ass i forever in my mind)
Wink. Blink.
BAAAM!-!
Robin Lipinski 