Acid Dog
Leave this placeLet alone the need to breathe, Let alone these earthly things. Forfeit the ties that bind you To this rocky soil.Leave this place
Weave a magic so of its own That we all just sit in wonder; Deafening the roar of these busy streets An ink blot of our past. We choose what we want to see.
The butterflies of our imagination Are swarming through these crimson rivers Boiling the life force Set it on fire.
Let it run down these busy fingers Until not
grey dayemptiness and grogginess the left over ashesgrey day
of a fungal endeavor...
the primitive man still lingers in form awaiting a mode of release
society tombs, since escape from the womb, our animalistic prowess.
violence, selfishness and gluttony are all there, we call them sins... more like instinct.
human instinct, some say it doesn't exist.
but in this pixilated otherworld, what is there to doubt?
colors blooming patterns forming my laughter escapes me as i watch the TV
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"A work of art is the trace of a magnificent struggle." -Robert Henri
what's new?
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"A work of art is the trace of a magnificent struggle." -Robert Henri
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"A work of art is the trace of a magnificent struggle." -Robert Henri
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"Be all heart, or don't be at all." ~PM
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"A work of art is the trace of a magnificent struggle." -Robert Henri
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Without thinking of good or evil, show me your original face before your mother and father were born.
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"A work of art is the trace of a magnificent struggle." -Robert Henri
call me anything you want, i think zach'll do fine