apropos of nothing

Veering Towards Valerium Venerium

Where’s the action? The waves? The munitions? The minions? I don’t particularly dislike others but you might say I have an unresolved self-loathing issue ricocheting about in my cranium—and it’s rather spacious in there because I don’t make much use of the gray matter made available to me—but that loathing manifests in a distinct misanthropy. So I use my machete—early and often. I whistle while I work, hacking at ideas, ideations, idolators, and idiopathic strangeness in the venereal realm. I’m an equal opportunity serial hacker (others call me a barbarian) either way, I’m always ready, willing and … involute in my volubility. I say nothing when I say a lot. Where’s the valerian root? The moon has a moony face (apropos of nothing)—and violence continually flares at my peripheries. Welcome to the world, c. 2022 CE. What a place! What faces! What?! … huh?!

What I’m Reading:

Holy images covered every wall of my parents’ house.
Their house had the immobility of a nightmare.
The first color I knew was that of horror
.”

— Kathy Acker / My Mother: Demonology

About istsfor manity

i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....
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