These days I’ve been thinking a lot about the stuff we build in our own heads — mental constructs, (I guess it's an Existential discussion). Like, how real is this feeling I’m having right now? How much

Monochrome Angel The monochrome angel lays her head low, her newsprint wings folded in submission. Time hates nothing likes he hates the obsolete. Angel or demon, he cares naught. Duality is a myth, a

Someone Should Remember someone should remember stone scratchings primordial echoes tattoo'd heavenly bodies on limestone and slate symbols and suggestions an epic hunting trip fades in the light from

Divinely Opiate nephilimic wings sprout from a cybernetic scapulae she had no idea what she was just a thin line of ore embedded in golden lanugo hinted at the treasure found within the cell embryonic,

A body. My body. I am within it, I am it, and I am experiencing it, and through it, I can also experience the world. Others experience the world through their own bodies, and when our bodies come into

Spiders, Wisps, and Shifting Bones Spider upon silken strands not one can master can fail to get lost become entangled surrender the struggle infinite intricacy is not to be figured is not to be controlled

Source After finishing Death Parade, I kept thinking about how easily it could have been another shallow gimmick show. The premise sounds like a game of the week: two people die, they show up at a mysterious

The purpose of perpetuity Traveling between dimensions Freedom rings In realms unseen Sordid symmetry Tears at me Despondency Won’t leave me be Desolate Removed Watching for something I never found Will

Divinely Opiate nephilimic wings sprout from a cybernetic scapulae she had no idea what she was just a thin line of ore embedded in golden lanugo hinted at the treasure found within the cell embryonic,

I've been asking people this question lately: "What do you want?"

honestly, I don't know if anybody reads this but if you do like I've said before I'd love any comments for more perspective on this matter.

Dawn's Chorus dawn’s chorus, jewelled tones bright plumes, smooth moves fickle bird, feathered marketing There Be Virtual Catfish There Be Virtual Catfish* He wasn’t born in Paris He doesn’t live in Manhattan

Mirrors and Trellises Link to Audio blog Trellis the Cosmos clicks and pauses code and inference from earth to sky pattern shepherds chaos from nonsense to meaning foundation and base erect geometric mirrors

A Hardcore Exchange compulsive scrolling focus ... on and on no circumspection economy, in my back pocket, a matrix upon my lap, love replaced with likes the glint in your eye blurred with digital cataracts,

My Satellite, At Conception once around a twirling, soaring helical solaris number three on the call list bonded to my satellite we do-si-do down the never-ending whirl-pool how many moons hold hands with

Diatoms and Division, Lovers and Wormholes ( Spacetime Skeletons an ebullient rupture upset claustrophobic introverted interiors rattled the bones demanded dancing you'd never wear your gear inside out

Ethan, lost in his quest for meaning, faces a haunting mirror that reveals his deepest despair—leading to an inevitable embrace of the void.

Maimed Deity maimed deity singed arteries transformation fallen angel mother nurturing veins tears and milk flow generously a love tithe starved concern, adoration circumvented diverted to omission liars

Bliss in Exchange grounded angels weep skies open nephilimic tears dissolve aches soothe soil balm scars earth-born angels will weep fill oceans and jet streams with showers, droplets and dew bear generations

Starlings and Willows Link to audio bLog It is that time again Hivelanders. Christmas is done and dusted, and the holiday season put to rest and back into the boxes in the basement or attic. Father Time