Halloween vamps, tramps and religion.
It’s a sickness, a desire for something that just does not exist-It never will for it has yet to be composed.
A cure. My cure, my concoction and reaction.
There is heat, development. Energy.
Results are clear. Crystals formed.
The count is off and my drawings are so clean and precise, just another page in my book.
Gorgeous and unaware of it’s own innocence.
Brilliant, a dream.
If I have learned anything. Anything at all,
As long as you write the procedure ahead of time-not knowing the results
Just hoping that they somehow configure into what is expected
You will get full commendation for your action.
Spit in it. Hand it over to it’s endemic self just because you know you can.
It’s enslavement and fascinating…and it’s okay.
No blame for the decision it’s easy for anyone
Something from space. Emptiness, when nothing is destroyed or created.
The energy remains alive, red and echoing into something onto annihilation.
I am at the finish line.
I’m sorry there is no picture to go with this…really, I am.