April 2013

4/1/13: You ever wonder if the sky would pull a joke on you?
4/3/13: Dozens of lab coats walk around the top of the boiling machine or their eyes are glued to the screen, with a finger following which ingredient to use next. One comes in with a heavy sack of carbon, but another tells the carrier to stop, not yet, said the another. The screen-reader shouts out for water. One pours, two others keep their distance at about an inch. Then the lime is poured, then phosphorus, nitrogen. More elements mix until they seal the top to let it cook. Wire ports link onto the side of the head. Not yet, said another. They wait for six hours then they got impatient and link it up anyway. The baking timer rings through the lab. The sarcophagus opens a body pulls out, the body walks like a chicken to the window. Damn it, said another. Next time to patient, someone said, but no one knows.
4/12/13: Mouths move, sounds carve invisible lines to form words, all happy, all smiley, all pointless. Well, from a point of view. Upon receiving, my ears change the lines to broken apart, mush and error is all I hear. If I speak, the smileys wouldn't call my words mush. If they hear audio outside their they respond with, "oh that's nice." Their illusionist  perception continues to claim more territory, ensnaring themselves, while I wait for the bigger delusion of the world crawl into their territory.
4/21/13: We think, but some people don't want to think. They think thinking will bring complications with their limiting lives. Why bring in more complexes? It's not who I am which I think I can't be, but I don't think I've tried to be what I think I might be. Now I want to know what my great-primal grandfather might be, and ask his flesh if I'm capable of what he was and more. I think I can be much more than before.
4/22/13: The rooms get smaller as I grow in mass and sound. Words bound within the walls sing restriction and play with strings. I cut the strings, but the wall's voice heals the string, entangling my soul.