Come in Honolulu. Can anyone read me out there? Come in. It's not the first day anymore, and the flitty little twits of our dreams have haunted us far too long, and have begun to wear on our patience. Memories litter the brain, jittery connections synapsing about in that little confined space of electricity and habitual behavior. The only thing we are sure of is that this too will change. The present moment can be grand, but not when the experience of it is being bombarded with the relived longings for what was. What will be is a mystery, but the future does not appreciate the negative influence of a brain that keeps floating old material which serves no purpose but misery.
The dread pirate spat "hoorah!" to the wind, and it flew back in his face. The chickens danced around the yard, the gorillas sat on their asses, and ate bananas. Another computer, and cheap sunglasses. We ate ravioli.
Soon the sun will go behind the clouds again. There will be a rainbow this afternoon. A car accident. A plane crashed in Spain. The sound of a helicopter in the distance. Love evaporating into the ether. The giants of the universe inhale it. We are breathed in, and exhaled out. Space. Empty time while the sand falls gently through the cracks, and into the void.
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vomite swinus imperius
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