06.Mar.2001

cloves.

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h4

Lust makes me crazy. I am lusty for past things. I am lusty for future things spanning from past things. I make rings around the psilocybe and aspire to be something tangible. I shoot beams of idiosyncratic neon-pink into the Western United States when I'm not looking. I conceal my longing for duck, even though at one point I had mock duck pizza made from soy.
Never feed your craving from tokens.
Always aim for the real thing.
I am good and want the taste of cloves in my mouth.
That slick, sweet Cloves wetness across my upper lip.
There are many things that I want, many that I want to be.
I am getting my ass kicked by sanity.
Pain, however, is foreign at this time, unless physical; otherwise it will be leaking from my esophagus in about 10 minutes.
I am pliable and plowable today.
I want a herd of seductive entities to take advantage of that.
I think I just want really meaningful sex without flesh-knives.
I think I just want Cloves.


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time & machine