A Breeding Ground

I blew out the bombshelter.

These are notes in a discordant composition. Disturbing messages just beyond my perception. These culprits are unsettling—good for a breeding ground for madness. A shimmering crystalline fog shrouds my head. A sharp cold descends. A leavening. A reckoning. It builds and breaks over me—a supreme darkness. 

Silence. 

I forget what the final word is.
Time fog is hellish.
What more do you require on the day of your death at 5:26 am?

Gently Open Your Eyes
Grasp The Horror
Wish Away
The Nightmare

I’m an upside-down goldfish.
Bring me the Big Panda…

Silence.

What I’m Listening To:

If the child we sacrificed to the sea didn’t work
I think we’re in trouble

Did the school grades sewn into his coat
not convince them of how proud we were?

— Able Noise / “To Appease”