drugs, dimensional ripples, life outside living, space debris, smiles within frowns
Sounds Like
when all the sober neons apologize in waves of crashing silk, and the sun winks its left half at the skipping of tomorrow, you can hear tiny birds reciting all the symphonies they've ever loved in fragments on repeat. we wanna jam with those cats.
Barry Armpit and the Personification of Plates: Episode Two.
Arriving late to his cousins wedding, Barry Armpit took his seat without ceremony. So far everything had gone without a hitch. Conserving his energy for the reception, he slept through the hyms and vows like a baby in the backseat of a car. Suddenly shuckled awake by the sounds of Zorba the Greek his eyes creaked open, only to be soberly slapped by the vision of an ominous stack of plates. Knowing there was nothing he could do, he froze in helpless horror. He knew he was but a paralyzed, caged witness, forced to look on and bury the guilt from his face. He would never have believed it before but he swore the whole stack of plates took a deep breath and prepared to face their demise with the proud defiance of forgotten Cambodian doctors. He left in disgust.
