Visions of bX-v0laof

blogID: 4475083791695836652
host: www.blogger.com
postID:
uri: /post-create.do



num lock fucks.
opening the crust to reveal a numerical egg.
a purposeless value, presented in a less than salubrious manner.
dull eyed dustmen lift their fragile arms to double click it away
but fall apart decrepit, as is their day long nature.

swept away in the sandiest dune. heaven deep.

chlorine burns and hydrogen breaks off like viscose biscuit, fizzing victorious in it's own personal battle to become something other than the number of it's weight in the world. doomed by humans to be 1 alone. a laughable figure?
deleted my cache of play doh and jelliver ice creems.

it's good to speak to adverse side effects.

cod's wallop way better when they wear boxing gloves or a don a solid brass knuckleduster

various other bits.

white horse bending down facing left makes a letter M which num locked is 0
so if M is 0
06therf4c2er!

The " Otherfacer" O_O

THE NAME " Otherfacer" and "The Otherfacer"

YOU ARE SUSCEPTIBLE TO PRECURSOR
AN ENIGMATIC GRAY WITH AN A
CHOP CHOP REPLACE THE RED PLACENTA
OF HASHES AND SEMICOLON SOMETHING ELSE.

lame small print i like it
arsecone. arsecube. arsepyramid.

hole.

The emotional world of Major Tom

does anyone know what they are doing?, even the finer figures have no sense of self. step into my sphere and we'll begin. I am a unique blend of life. I am not part of the struggle, i am part of the found. Detail gets left undone, away from preset mind maps. And I have renounced the evils of this world. The music is boring me to death. BUSINESS DIE BUSINESS DIE

All i ever see is logic feel, logic feel,
oh all i ever feel is logic see, logic see,
CHANT MONEY CHANT MONEY
repeated for effect effect repeated for
AD _ VERT
GREEN FOR POST HOC
the purest thing about you. use of , real, imperfect syllabic beeps.
washing machine psyche, trained in the company of beggars.
self assured blood out poured from draining holes in bleeding veins.
tonight's flourishes and almond,

almond frederic Significance.

SIGN THIS

and inhale, you know the connotations, but fuck 'em. they aren't wanted here.
one day i'll refine these crawling macabre innerds
but they need a place to be kept before there arent any more.
the wise shut their traps, or silently open their gobs to produce a whistling when the wind vibrates through their gaping hollow caves.

opal was a girl i knew before i knew.
she has no face just a representation in my head.
i was taken away at birth
i strangled myself with my own umbilical cord
i turned blue
i remember hiding under tables with white cloth
i used to fall asleep with moles and ermine fellows
a rhodedendron was a big flower
the bridge is still there
believe

Memoirs of A Bot

So there i was, backed up against the cold hard wall of a CAPTCHA
i say to Pete, " Man, i wish i could read that shit"
Pete says, "yeah man, images are like some foreign language or some shit"

He lays it on me straight. (He was a bit OCD about these things)

My first picture book.

O / 1 ?

From the Old Lane

I have music in my ears my eys, my evry
coalition ring me up on the
setencz finish
be abailabl for you only hav 1
these text s
serv as forever you look word
i have found words
r is tied up

power is bound.

not to fire.
but words.

In the frenzied calm of the future light will shine down upon you

I M
M U
N E

Cock Clock and the Slowdown Panther

Seeing as business is based on the death of free will, i thought i'd live a little.

The 1941 year old Mcguiness tried to escape and talk with his wife. BUT DIED. (more on this later)

My thoughts drague on and loathing, forsooth! give me a white sheet and a black tip and get me out of here!

i caught myself using my skull a bit, in the midst of personal calamities far beyond my scrying days... and then i found out that maybe, it all will work out after all! i love the sound of my own typing, fuck yeah that feels good. GOOS. goooose. :]

But yes. I was just caroozing around Web 2.0 and ambled about the fetid smell that is http://www.creatiu.com/

which boasts a like totally awesome service that like finds like the coolest websites and designers for you! so you can look at pretty things all the time indulging your natural instinct to fixate on that bright light in front of you, for hours, days, weeks... copy pasting, posting "sharing"

Looks like the social climate is getting cooler, and according to my spirit level is getting frightfully close to evening out into a tepid mulch similar in texture to a bowlful of lukewarm Dickensian gruel blended with a couple of Tesco's finest hand picked Yorkshire Terrier turds.

So much for living your life in 2D my dear Fortescue.

P.S for any of you happy shoppers, this page has been duely shopped for your discretion. Unlikely, one would have the courtesy to say thankyou, but a guy can only hope.

As if you didn't know, I write exposes on the inner ills of the troupe.
I can all but think that we'd be damned to hell for the superior corruption that favours civilised society so, if it wasn't for the shining lights of aversion and creative ignorance, shying (as they do) away from the limelight, not timidly, but like pumice stones floating on a sea of shadows. We would all be brown bread. (maybe best of both)

DIRGE. silt cascades, grey sludges, goo fountains, silica slag heaps.
Vocabulary, Dietician, Haemmorroid (sp?)

cant test this fact. - what is the sole reason, memorabilia, cavernous, recital, words that involuntarily come to the forefront of the brain box.

( SILENCE FOR 5 MINUTES )

There there, nice and quietly now. Three steps back, out the door, up against the wall, thats it... nice and gently.

THE MURDERER DROPS HIS KNIFE THROUGH THE GAPS IN THE THE METAL FIRE EXIT STAIRCASE.
THE BIN BAG OVER THE HEAD OF THE GIRL INFLATES
A TOXIC SHROUD DELIVERS THE MEANS FOR THIRD PARTIES TO ESCAPE.
11PM IS NOT THE REAL WORLD
AS THE APERTURES OF MY EYES ARE LARGER THAN THE LIGHT I CANNOT SEE.

make me feel the way i used to feel, back in the lack of information age, no one needs this much information, why are you reading this, you dont need to know what i think, i'm outside of this, well im an artist but that doesnt make any bit of difference to swarming mouthpiece wasps does it. Caution, the phantom eye is upon you, nice to meet you, this isnt even about you. it's about me. my position.

A self obsessive rambling line of text for mental relaxation and simple joy is nothing to cast stones at, i mean, it's like i'm someone else. Getting all this text and accumulating it in one, clear, characterless landfill of my own design.

<>

C:\run for your life.

\ENDLIFE

Blackness......

Bolt of Light

LIGHT
LIGHT
LIGHT

--------------------
--------------------
--------------------

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SOAREWEWINNING
S o 4 r 3 w 3 w 1 n n 1 n 9 ?

seeing as business is based on the death of free will....

web2.0 entrepeneurs have this advice for you and you alone dear child!

1. You will have at least one catastrophe every three months.
2. Outsource effectively, or be effectively outsourced.
3. Do you thrive on stress and ambiguity? You'd better.
4. The best way to get outside funding is to be successful already. Stupid but true. But you, cheapskate, don't need money, right?
5. People will think your idea sucks. They're even probably right. The only way to prove them wrong is to succeed.
6. A startup will require your complete attention and devotion. Thought your first love in High School was clingy? You can't take out a restraining order on your startup.
7. Being an entrepreneur requires a healthy amount of ignorance. Note I did not say stupidity.
8. Your software sucks. So what. Everyone else's does also, and re-architecting is the kiss of death for a startup. Startups are no place for architecture astronauts.
9. You do have a public API, right?
10. Abject Terror. Overwhelming Joy. Monstrous Greed. Embrace and harness these emotions you must.

... Fuckwits.

CTRL END X