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D-2

He is approached in the somber glow, a dim blooming light from above, without source. Dust weaves in and out of its rays, creating fragmented beams crashing onto the floor. Spoken lowly, in a gravelly voice, of which echoes softly, he is addressed by a primordial shriek, piercing the black. It emerges into the light, ancient and futuristic, the embodiment of cognition. It is enormous in size, spanning galaxies in all directions. Cunning eyes and prayer stance hands arc over the external organs and solitary vocal mouth that is positioned in the center of the mass. Various sections of the collective breathe, digest, and pump blood independently. Among the masses of flesh, muscle, ligament, and bone, protrude machinery. Exhaust pipes, exposed gears, circuitry and engines, roaring like wrath of hell, deafening. With eyes as plentiful as stars, peering down to a single point, it speaks aloud. Though not in any instantly recognizable language, it is still understood. The voice is a low moan, a hoarse alien rattle that shakes the eardrums. It is a demanding, uncompromising howl that strays both within and beyond human hearing capacity. Spanning all mediums of communication, the unified voice is projected into eternity.
Hands maneuver mechanical components on themselves, resetting, timing, clockwork, covered in skin and organic tissue. Pistons and cylinders pump and control the delicate mechanisms that reside in the mass. Is it at all possible to determine which factor existed first? Or did they both come into being at once? It speaks again; it’s trillions of eyes, widening, dilating, and its numerous hearts now thundering like volcanoes. It towers above, beyond the skies, beyond heaven and below hell. It is an absolute creature, magnificent and unholy, and amalgam of all existence.
It now comes into question, your own reality, and your circumstances surrounding your arrival here. Time has now become an interpretation of reality, no longer measurable. Instead, it has acquired properties of tangibility. Time, like a smoky apparition, weaves in and out of your fingers, around your torso, and into and out of your lungs. It is a choking, asthmatic reaction, your flesh shrivels and your organs fail, teeth decay instantly. The heart weakens, and the mind dulls. You perish almost immediately, painful and quick, the soul is extinguished.

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A practice piece to help keep me ‘in the groove’ of writing. You’re allowed to punch me in the anus. Yes I did say “in the groove”.

Anyway, this is about a dream I had.

I write music, stories, poetry, lyrics. I design album covers, posters, multimedia, general digital art as well as oil paints, stenciling, sketches, pen and inks, watercolor, and most digital media. I’m a singer. I fancy myself a philosopher of sorts, I love to think and know. I base myself in reality. Unfortunately.

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