the philharmonium of the vain
our cadavre is exquisite
we adore our non-sense
gods are forbidden
our 1+1 is arythmic
d/d/'s d/evolution to Truth and Trust
point our cut fingers to halves
and we laugh and we smile [and she spills her wine]
so serious and so k/not
the game is fair
we play the unusual
vendredi 29 janvier 2010
jeudi 28 janvier 2010
dimanche 24 janvier 2010
dimanche 10 janvier 2010
lundi 28 décembre 2009
dimanche 27 décembre 2009
Ensemble Internal Telegraphs
- Fluxton - we got a problem.
- What the what. h-Ah!
- I'm in h-E/L.
- Will you have some wine with that?
- What the what. h-Ah!
- I'm in h-E/L.
- Will you have some wine with that?
mercredi 23 décembre 2009
new words postulating for academic recognition
metaphoriac
eupheuphoric
pillodisiac
pythorythmic
lampologist
algoholic
eupheuphoric
pillodisiac
pythorythmic
lampologist
algoholic
mardi 22 décembre 2009
samedi 5 décembre 2009
vendredi 4 décembre 2009
::
you make my legs look edible/ like Gauguin's exotic fruit/ you make my legs resemble to the early days of June/ all though they were shot in July/ and re-invented here/ and now - feet do not forget what eyes may will
jeudi 3 décembre 2009
mercredi 2 décembre 2009
lundi 30 novembre 2009
vendredi 27 novembre 2009
words missing
i'm starting to forget how it is to // i'm starting to forget how it is // i'm starting to forget / am i? i forgot -
lundi 23 novembre 2009
dancing out, dancing out
my reverence to our high sense of counter-clocking common sense
by stepping in through the exit,
by coming in through the only window that is closed
it's an art, it's an art of dancing this way
and mixtapes me sing our song
mistakes we sing our song
dropping pride expected to feel so light
feeling so light, soon that train to the past
arriving at something 37 + the strikes
and I'll stop by a café, order s.odd thing
for the d/d/ poupées.
a smile for that red dash
my reverence to our high sense of counter-clocking common sense
by stepping in through the exit,
by coming in through the only window that is closed
it's an art, it's an art of dancing this way
and mixtapes me sing our song
mistakes we sing our song
dropping pride expected to feel so light
feeling so light, soon that train to the past
arriving at something 37 + the strikes
and I'll stop by a café, order s.odd thing
for the d/d/ poupées.
a smile for that red dash
mercredi 18 novembre 2009
earlier report
indifference 0.25%
absence 77.77%
abstinence 21.98%
sub-note:
first element's data may be false,
please reset your meter
absence 77.77%
abstinence 21.98%
sub-note:
first element's data may be false,
please reset your meter
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