cristian's wordpad & lingering thoughts

dose of Cristianism & other absurdities.

Posts from the “SPACE” Category

vanish

Posted on June 29, 2017

I’m the saddest man on the planet dulcet zones become eruptions of death memorizing vocal tones, or numbing distress most ballads, hit home, requiem out of balance such a synergistic release comes from, this basket of malice ill have it to here – 22oz black coffee french press anarchy is best dressed, brown leather, head rest sinning in her black coffee sun dress takes a village to raise a child, theres no one to raise it with us pillaged through blades of grass, photosynthetic assortment spilling your flask til its empty, blood served in a brass veil vivider mass pavilion. mom kept the pictures of dad, still photo album laminating. magnifying glass on an anthill steel razor tandem. Dear, anybody, anywhere who has ears…

fötter day

Posted on June 20, 2017

you can hear the… suburbia chime, zirconia vertebrae. pearly white spine glass thrown in stone houses, regular suburbia night whirring, rewind. chronicled childhood in olive drab paint monocle glass. wormwood and bottles of shawshank. dissolute solitude, wanderer who wallows in maze en route. delay for tomorrow. never promised today virgin diary. anne frank. marie curie disease tinture of rainbow, even if the distance is blurry to me he, who knows the way to zihuatenejo. furlough father. demand you to die when i say so 26 pesos what’s left in your wallet lint and mothball, merryland. experiment omelette. laundromat arcade quarter exchange 2 o clock shadow of death and follicle strain these boulders were supposed to be gone when i got here you shouldered me…

desultory 

Posted on May 9, 2016

okay. okay desultory genius. under construction. lost when unnerved  nothing more bizarre than the absurdist themes conjured with words  it’s almost perverted with how unconcerned I’ve grown as a man flirt with death. skeleton slow dance. holding his hands smile so they see it, hold smog in my lungs breathe it out when the smoke clears. Simon de Beauvoir  polished the earth that you stand on, apologies worth sleep paralysis, demon passage. toss and you turn I’m your most perfected distraction. go on as you were cause I’ll never be anyone’s anything or something deserved  just a deserted desert. destructive. berserk  deconstruct me to dirt, I’m your diversionary malpractice making inadvertent adversaries off these Shakespearean actions the never intended directors cut. a roll of…

there’s tragedy in the stars

Posted on September 30, 2015

who would’ve thought that losing resolve was such a lucrative sought after muse? because true tragedy talks volume but the channels on mute. channeling through galaxies having to move supernovas with raw: passion. any intuition is an intuitive loss. so superfluous, the way it happens; a dying sun sparks creative patterns. tiresome survival at the cost of my madness. theres such an interstellar sting, to the inner selfless kid that finds himself in brink of that trigger of a dwelling sink. theres a dimmer from the lighthouse miles away, but there’s a vignette at the end of the tunnel that i wish that i could explain. emotions bruised could consume you, in all. alive, but numb in the same extraction. elapsed time expands in…

  

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