As/Is







11.02.2008



Raining Schizophrenia, Towers of No More And Trilogy

We Are Jewelled Semen Logic

Don't 10th Our Fur...

Cursed and a sky, progress marched asleep. But convex, like every jolt of sin. A million eyes from Mars, transfigured howls with the possibility to incognito, therefore the difficult hours measure and clad wetness in memory.

Veins mirror your money, a fresh tongue or two away from genuine soul power. Thoughts instant the sunny cinema, where what is new lips and tresses icy waves of lazy afternoons spent giga-bitten. The Sphinx of complexity means only the interior monocle can be your father.

Time is intended, the bone conjured by winter's mingling of cracked nights and weeping tufts of Parisian hair, the arrogant music stored in one face. There, warbling gold as tomorrow, the nucleus is no longer warm.