Last man burning/ taste the vulcanized rubber and chrome/ an aesthetic diversion (a funeral dirge conceived by the Theremin)
Another post, yet, not another dollar to my name. A Rudy Ray Moore poster hangs in front of me, the hot pink pastels searing another hole in the rear of my eye. My vitreous humor, something I learned about only recently, is increasing in energy.
...2 hours later
The burning sensation now gone, along with the Dolemite poster, I am realizing my amazement with the atrocious number of comments I've accumulated through my recent posts. Wow. 20 Posts over 6 months = 3.33 posts per month. Not outstanding, but not nearly as dismal as the number of comments per month = 0 / 6 months = 0 comments per month = 0 comments per post. After running the numbers, it was determined that a funeral dirge based on the lack of blog success should be developed. The tune has three parts; an epic really. More specifically, I'll call it a concept recording, mostly because that's what it is. The first part deals a lot with the mental anguish and anger I went through. In my own world, due to the lack of comments (and apparent human companionship), I had indeed become the last man burning. My blood pressure has risen and the skin between my knuckles was dry. Sticky phlegm is firmly attached to back portion of my sinuses. Sacrificially, I burn. The actual Theremin tones were loud enough to be picked up by the ears of some keen observers outside my compound. They produced paranoid fear and the two, who appeared to know one another intimately, fought for about 15 long secondds.
The second part, "taste the vulcanized rubber and chrome," spends a little time quietly delving into the destruction of the last few parts of my cold, dark, soul. Prior to complete destruction, but after my anger had subsided, the physical tastes were dull and organic. Some people taste this when they're on the edge of paralyzing seizure. I also felt the pulling pressure of rubber being pressed against my face. The chrome came next. This sub-component of part two speeds up a little, and the sounds of malevolence are apparent. Physically, it represents the metallic tastes developing in my mouth that made me salivate uncontrollably. Eventually the metal fever held me tightly. My teeth hurt. This signifies the end of a quite enjoyable era of existence. This particular piece caused two doves to cry.
The last part, as the title suggests, is simply an aesthetic diversion. It was musically designed to blow your mind away and make you forget that you yourself are failing, but are all to willing to live in a world of denial. It makes you think once, twice, maybe three times about the next time you're too high to create a comment on a blog. It's pleasing actually. The refreshing tones of the last piece really allow you that one piece of good, honest sense that you've been trying to achieve through different meditation schemes. This part caused local dieties to speak thunderously to a group of local fuck-ups. It also caused one case of mutilating mind diarrhea.
We're lucky to have folks like me
...2 hours later
The burning sensation now gone, along with the Dolemite poster, I am realizing my amazement with the atrocious number of comments I've accumulated through my recent posts. Wow. 20 Posts over 6 months = 3.33 posts per month. Not outstanding, but not nearly as dismal as the number of comments per month = 0 / 6 months = 0 comments per month = 0 comments per post. After running the numbers, it was determined that a funeral dirge based on the lack of blog success should be developed. The tune has three parts; an epic really. More specifically, I'll call it a concept recording, mostly because that's what it is. The first part deals a lot with the mental anguish and anger I went through. In my own world, due to the lack of comments (and apparent human companionship), I had indeed become the last man burning. My blood pressure has risen and the skin between my knuckles was dry. Sticky phlegm is firmly attached to back portion of my sinuses. Sacrificially, I burn. The actual Theremin tones were loud enough to be picked up by the ears of some keen observers outside my compound. They produced paranoid fear and the two, who appeared to know one another intimately, fought for about 15 long secondds.
The second part, "taste the vulcanized rubber and chrome," spends a little time quietly delving into the destruction of the last few parts of my cold, dark, soul. Prior to complete destruction, but after my anger had subsided, the physical tastes were dull and organic. Some people taste this when they're on the edge of paralyzing seizure. I also felt the pulling pressure of rubber being pressed against my face. The chrome came next. This sub-component of part two speeds up a little, and the sounds of malevolence are apparent. Physically, it represents the metallic tastes developing in my mouth that made me salivate uncontrollably. Eventually the metal fever held me tightly. My teeth hurt. This signifies the end of a quite enjoyable era of existence. This particular piece caused two doves to cry.
The last part, as the title suggests, is simply an aesthetic diversion. It was musically designed to blow your mind away and make you forget that you yourself are failing, but are all to willing to live in a world of denial. It makes you think once, twice, maybe three times about the next time you're too high to create a comment on a blog. It's pleasing actually. The refreshing tones of the last piece really allow you that one piece of good, honest sense that you've been trying to achieve through different meditation schemes. This part caused local dieties to speak thunderously to a group of local fuck-ups. It also caused one case of mutilating mind diarrhea.
We're lucky to have folks like me
Labels: crossword puzzles, free porn, I want to write to Dear Abby, sometimes I wet the bed
posted by fiestawizard at 8:52 PM
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