Caverns and Wind III Mature content No. 215 Published February 3rd, 2021 5:53am pst read ( words) Past entries "In the cavern. Cold, damp, dark. The blue dress swings and flows in the breeze, empty... Void of her. I remain alone. Water. Wind. Everything. Chosen tine, sans the time, pour the wine, all in line. Tall, foreboding, red dress, red hair, flowing nose, flowing fingers... Never me. Just... Never me. Everything is complete save for one load of dry cleaning. Finished soon. I will never be finished, however. The work in progress is the only way. Never complete. Always in pieces. Orange there, I see. Orange roundness not far from the blue. Not that blue, the other blue. Do not search, for you will not find it. Leave it alone. More wind blowing me all over the place like slices of paper from a garbage can. I know not what to do, I see the blue, I need the 'you', yet there is no clue. Just as everything in the world since that tine, nothing is clear, satisfying, easy or fulfilling. Wait... Not before the tine. Or after? Does it matter? Did I splatter? Call the Mad Hatter. Fuck it all, anyway. The cavern is my only retreat. Is it enough? Thy path is nigh. 339 changed to 335. Count it all, watch the fall, call the ball, end the thrall. Never me. Just... Never me. Wait for 334. The model is not the problem, yet she is here in nude glory because the inside of my head has become a decaying wasteland of sex, imagery, dreams and nothingness clad in a thong. Nothingness. Sexiness. Godliness. Fuck the rest. Where is she? Will the dress survive? I have to clean it, all dirty and swinging in the wind. The cavern worsens, constantly. Nothing is up, no improvement, no understanding, no solution. I want to kiss Gwynyth. I need a time-travel machine along with the other machine. You know... The one which can answer all the questions and send the trouble away. The wind carries trouble, too. She carries trouble. The cavern will fill with trouble. Redhead in the bed, full of dread. Bred. I was destined for this. Here we go gathering nuts in February. Mortal; foretold. Never me. Just never me. Those images still spin me until I am dizzy. I still see her, them, everything. Never me. Not in this life. The dream remains far off the track. My track. Julia told me. Chores done and lunch consumed. I no longer have a direction. I began to sort through some keepsakes but lost my way. And then lunch. And then more water. And then this. All I have. Maybe I should have spent my cash on that woman in leopard print in the hotel lobby, all tall, exotic and smelling like a dream. I didn't know. She seemed nice for being employed in the world's oldest profession. I just didn't know. What a sight. She popped into my head due to the red. Red times two, actually. Red hair and red dress. Thus? My brain ran to the past when the stallion stood before me, all exposed skin and smooth intonations. Well, that would come later. Evil was the grin when I wished to begin; Petals fell away as I started to stray; Flowers and wonder, soon torn asunder. 'These nutritional supplements are unacceptable'. Her brain bends my brain even more than her curves. Machine with the blue dress on. Machine. That one. There are two in my head, equally impossible yet equally dreamy. One is real, the other is not. But nothing stops the push of both. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. Morning again. Early. Like, two hours earlier than I would normally be awake. How does this happen? Is it related to the delicate time in which the bathroom calls? Not a clue. I need to sit here, however, as last night something struck me upside the head and forced me to consider that everything I have been doing is wrong and must be altered or I will not survive the year. I cannot disagree. Damn. One of those films I liked years ago but now is difficult to watch. I don't feel good about one aspect of myself, and the film pushed those buttons from zero six when I changed everything. Honestly, I've made that kind of decision many times throughout more than thirty years. The feeling last night and again this morning may do the trick. A switch of a different kind? I don't mind. Furnace. Not in the cavern, though. Damp and cold, that one. 'Help make the bed'. What to do? Folding in half, these late days. Folding in half. I don't know what to do anymore. Late. Very late. Today. Hmm... The usual? My temporary laundry drain? Probably. Something around the house? Probably. Is anything going to be different than yesterday? I don't know. The usual routine could actually be a part of what is holding me down, believe it or not. The comfort inherent in being here and going through those movements each day may have added up to removing my ability to go outside the norm. I'm not sure, but a feeling in the middle of the night (isn't this still the middle?) pulled at me to make a more dramatic change than I have in a very long time. I am concerned. What happens if I do nothing? Or has that already been established? Nothing crazy is being suggested, only a slight alteration in the way I go about my weekdays. I don't know, honestly. I just don't know of what I am capable anymore. The funny thing is that I am an expert at positioning myself for maximum comfort -- both of mind and body -- yet when it comes to doing something I feel may improve me, the effort feels enormous. I suppose more consideration is on tap. Ellen there. Nothing in the past, but she struck me just now for whatever reason. Brilliant, that one. Oh fuck, no more Ellen. I see that she is now he, and the name changed to Elliot. Well, fuck me in a blue dress, anyway. Unbelievable that one of the cutest faces ever is no longer a woman. I suppose these things happen. Off the list. What a fucking waste when a beautiful female becomes a male. The world needs more males like it needs to be struck by another fucking planet. Ugh. Bye, Ellen. Wind again. Wind in my head and outside, although I cannot see because of the hour. Dark out there. Pitch. Rain may be coming but I can't recall. The blue dress remains empty. The cavern does not care about anything. Water dripping, the sound of the wind outside, and that pretty dress swaying as if it is destined to do so. I don't know what to think. Symmetry there. Mustard again. Blue, but not the dress. Mustard and Ellen. Er... Whatever. Mustard. Just mustard all over the place. Change making changes. Put yourself to the ground. Circles again. I see no other avenues. The cavern may remain for the long haul, the dress forever. Wind again and again. The dress is blowing gently, calling. I cannot stare at it any longer. Famke with red hair. Very odd. Just five in the morning now. There will not be any light until the better part of two hours passes. I don't like being up this early. Uncomfortable. I still don't know if anything will change today, or if I will do things differently. I just don't fucking know. Sometimes it seems a good idea while other times not really. The compulsion which developed during the film has lessened but still there. I might make changes. Or maybe I'll hit the booze at seven in the morning and turn into a drunken wreck before lunch. I don't know. Do you? The walls are moving into the cavern and the wind is making their effort difficult. I don't mind because the cavern pays no mind. I look over there to the left and see all the stuff on the wall and it is moving. You know what I mean. At least I have yet to crawl over there. Green and guns steal the fun. From there to there, one more time; Breathe the air, smell the wine; Everything bare, everything mine. There is no understanding. There is no understanding. There is no understanding. There is no understanding. I keep thinking about what I saw. There can be no going back now, though. I cannot forget. I never forget anything, really. It all stays in there, the good being overshadowed by the bad and the uncomfortable. I need to get it out and burn the memory. I have to. The alternative is what I am becoming. And I did it to myself for the millionth time. I really did. No one else there, just me. Maybe this really was the genesis of more problems than I could have imagined. I don't know, but it could have worked against me. If so, I did it to myself yet again. The only answer -- the one I have mentioned many times -- could be in the wings. Or in this cavern. 331. She is out there." Copyright ©2002-2024 comainterrupted.com All rights reserved All other trademarks, logos and graphics are the property of their respective owners Created by Brandywine Engineering using Microsoft Visual Studio 2022 and .NET Framework 4.8 Questions? Comments? Anything? Gather your thoughts and compose a message to the psychos in charge
Caverns and Wind III Mature content No. 215 Published February 3rd, 2021 5:53am pst read ( words) Past entries "In the cavern. Cold, damp, dark. The blue dress swings and flows in the breeze, empty... Void of her. I remain alone. Water. Wind. Everything. Chosen tine, sans the time, pour the wine, all in line. Tall, foreboding, red dress, red hair, flowing nose, flowing fingers... Never me. Just... Never me. Everything is complete save for one load of dry cleaning. Finished soon. I will never be finished, however. The work in progress is the only way. Never complete. Always in pieces. Orange there, I see. Orange roundness not far from the blue. Not that blue, the other blue. Do not search, for you will not find it. Leave it alone. More wind blowing me all over the place like slices of paper from a garbage can. I know not what to do, I see the blue, I need the 'you', yet there is no clue. Just as everything in the world since that tine, nothing is clear, satisfying, easy or fulfilling. Wait... Not before the tine. Or after? Does it matter? Did I splatter? Call the Mad Hatter. Fuck it all, anyway. The cavern is my only retreat. Is it enough? Thy path is nigh. 339 changed to 335. Count it all, watch the fall, call the ball, end the thrall. Never me. Just... Never me. Wait for 334. The model is not the problem, yet she is here in nude glory because the inside of my head has become a decaying wasteland of sex, imagery, dreams and nothingness clad in a thong. Nothingness. Sexiness. Godliness. Fuck the rest. Where is she? Will the dress survive? I have to clean it, all dirty and swinging in the wind. The cavern worsens, constantly. Nothing is up, no improvement, no understanding, no solution. I want to kiss Gwynyth. I need a time-travel machine along with the other machine. You know... The one which can answer all the questions and send the trouble away. The wind carries trouble, too. She carries trouble. The cavern will fill with trouble. Redhead in the bed, full of dread. Bred. I was destined for this. Here we go gathering nuts in February. Mortal; foretold. Never me. Just never me. Those images still spin me until I am dizzy. I still see her, them, everything. Never me. Not in this life. The dream remains far off the track. My track. Julia told me. Chores done and lunch consumed. I no longer have a direction. I began to sort through some keepsakes but lost my way. And then lunch. And then more water. And then this. All I have. Maybe I should have spent my cash on that woman in leopard print in the hotel lobby, all tall, exotic and smelling like a dream. I didn't know. She seemed nice for being employed in the world's oldest profession. I just didn't know. What a sight. She popped into my head due to the red. Red times two, actually. Red hair and red dress. Thus? My brain ran to the past when the stallion stood before me, all exposed skin and smooth intonations. Well, that would come later. Evil was the grin when I wished to begin; Petals fell away as I started to stray; Flowers and wonder, soon torn asunder. 'These nutritional supplements are unacceptable'. Her brain bends my brain even more than her curves. Machine with the blue dress on. Machine. That one. There are two in my head, equally impossible yet equally dreamy. One is real, the other is not. But nothing stops the push of both. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. Morning again. Early. Like, two hours earlier than I would normally be awake. How does this happen? Is it related to the delicate time in which the bathroom calls? Not a clue. I need to sit here, however, as last night something struck me upside the head and forced me to consider that everything I have been doing is wrong and must be altered or I will not survive the year. I cannot disagree. Damn. One of those films I liked years ago but now is difficult to watch. I don't feel good about one aspect of myself, and the film pushed those buttons from zero six when I changed everything. Honestly, I've made that kind of decision many times throughout more than thirty years. The feeling last night and again this morning may do the trick. A switch of a different kind? I don't mind. Furnace. Not in the cavern, though. Damp and cold, that one. 'Help make the bed'. What to do? Folding in half, these late days. Folding in half. I don't know what to do anymore. Late. Very late. Today. Hmm... The usual? My temporary laundry drain? Probably. Something around the house? Probably. Is anything going to be different than yesterday? I don't know. The usual routine could actually be a part of what is holding me down, believe it or not. The comfort inherent in being here and going through those movements each day may have added up to removing my ability to go outside the norm. I'm not sure, but a feeling in the middle of the night (isn't this still the middle?) pulled at me to make a more dramatic change than I have in a very long time. I am concerned. What happens if I do nothing? Or has that already been established? Nothing crazy is being suggested, only a slight alteration in the way I go about my weekdays. I don't know, honestly. I just don't know of what I am capable anymore. The funny thing is that I am an expert at positioning myself for maximum comfort -- both of mind and body -- yet when it comes to doing something I feel may improve me, the effort feels enormous. I suppose more consideration is on tap. Ellen there. Nothing in the past, but she struck me just now for whatever reason. Brilliant, that one. Oh fuck, no more Ellen. I see that she is now he, and the name changed to Elliot. Well, fuck me in a blue dress, anyway. Unbelievable that one of the cutest faces ever is no longer a woman. I suppose these things happen. Off the list. What a fucking waste when a beautiful female becomes a male. The world needs more males like it needs to be struck by another fucking planet. Ugh. Bye, Ellen. Wind again. Wind in my head and outside, although I cannot see because of the hour. Dark out there. Pitch. Rain may be coming but I can't recall. The blue dress remains empty. The cavern does not care about anything. Water dripping, the sound of the wind outside, and that pretty dress swaying as if it is destined to do so. I don't know what to think. Symmetry there. Mustard again. Blue, but not the dress. Mustard and Ellen. Er... Whatever. Mustard. Just mustard all over the place. Change making changes. Put yourself to the ground. Circles again. I see no other avenues. The cavern may remain for the long haul, the dress forever. Wind again and again. The dress is blowing gently, calling. I cannot stare at it any longer. Famke with red hair. Very odd. Just five in the morning now. There will not be any light until the better part of two hours passes. I don't like being up this early. Uncomfortable. I still don't know if anything will change today, or if I will do things differently. I just don't fucking know. Sometimes it seems a good idea while other times not really. The compulsion which developed during the film has lessened but still there. I might make changes. Or maybe I'll hit the booze at seven in the morning and turn into a drunken wreck before lunch. I don't know. Do you? The walls are moving into the cavern and the wind is making their effort difficult. I don't mind because the cavern pays no mind. I look over there to the left and see all the stuff on the wall and it is moving. You know what I mean. At least I have yet to crawl over there. Green and guns steal the fun. From there to there, one more time; Breathe the air, smell the wine; Everything bare, everything mine. There is no understanding. There is no understanding. There is no understanding. There is no understanding. I keep thinking about what I saw. There can be no going back now, though. I cannot forget. I never forget anything, really. It all stays in there, the good being overshadowed by the bad and the uncomfortable. I need to get it out and burn the memory. I have to. The alternative is what I am becoming. And I did it to myself for the millionth time. I really did. No one else there, just me. Maybe this really was the genesis of more problems than I could have imagined. I don't know, but it could have worked against me. If so, I did it to myself yet again. The only answer -- the one I have mentioned many times -- could be in the wings. Or in this cavern. 331. She is out there."
Caverns and Wind III
Mature content No. 215 Published February 3rd, 2021 5:53am pst read ( words) Past entries
"In the cavern. Cold, damp, dark. The blue dress swings and flows in the breeze, empty... Void of her. I remain alone. Water. Wind. Everything. Chosen tine, sans the time, pour the wine, all in line. Tall, foreboding, red dress, red hair, flowing nose, flowing fingers... Never me. Just... Never me. Everything is complete save for one load of dry cleaning. Finished soon. I will never be finished, however. The work in progress is the only way. Never complete. Always in pieces. Orange there, I see. Orange roundness not far from the blue. Not that blue, the other blue. Do not search, for you will not find it. Leave it alone. More wind blowing me all over the place like slices of paper from a garbage can. I know not what to do, I see the blue, I need the 'you', yet there is no clue. Just as everything in the world since that tine, nothing is clear, satisfying, easy or fulfilling. Wait... Not before the tine. Or after? Does it matter? Did I splatter? Call the Mad Hatter. Fuck it all, anyway. The cavern is my only retreat. Is it enough? Thy path is nigh. 339 changed to 335. Count it all, watch the fall, call the ball, end the thrall. Never me. Just... Never me. Wait for 334. The model is not the problem, yet she is here in nude glory because the inside of my head has become a decaying wasteland of sex, imagery, dreams and nothingness clad in a thong. Nothingness. Sexiness. Godliness. Fuck the rest. Where is she? Will the dress survive? I have to clean it, all dirty and swinging in the wind. The cavern worsens, constantly. Nothing is up, no improvement, no understanding, no solution. I want to kiss Gwynyth. I need a time-travel machine along with the other machine. You know... The one which can answer all the questions and send the trouble away. The wind carries trouble, too. She carries trouble. The cavern will fill with trouble. Redhead in the bed, full of dread. Bred. I was destined for this.
Here we go gathering nuts in February. Mortal; foretold. Never me. Just never me. Those images still spin me until I am dizzy. I still see her, them, everything. Never me. Not in this life. The dream remains far off the track. My track. Julia told me. Chores done and lunch consumed. I no longer have a direction. I began to sort through some keepsakes but lost my way. And then lunch. And then more water. And then this. All I have. Maybe I should have spent my cash on that woman in leopard print in the hotel lobby, all tall, exotic and smelling like a dream. I didn't know. She seemed nice for being employed in the world's oldest profession. I just didn't know. What a sight. She popped into my head due to the red. Red times two, actually. Red hair and red dress. Thus? My brain ran to the past when the stallion stood before me, all exposed skin and smooth intonations. Well, that would come later. Evil was the grin when I wished to begin; Petals fell away as I started to stray; Flowers and wonder, soon torn asunder. 'These nutritional supplements are unacceptable'. Her brain bends my brain even more than her curves. Machine with the blue dress on. Machine. That one. There are two in my head, equally impossible yet equally dreamy. One is real, the other is not. But nothing stops the push of both. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there. She is out there.
Morning again. Early. Like, two hours earlier than I would normally be awake. How does this happen? Is it related to the delicate time in which the bathroom calls? Not a clue. I need to sit here, however, as last night something struck me upside the head and forced me to consider that everything I have been doing is wrong and must be altered or I will not survive the year. I cannot disagree. Damn. One of those films I liked years ago but now is difficult to watch. I don't feel good about one aspect of myself, and the film pushed those buttons from zero six when I changed everything. Honestly, I've made that kind of decision many times throughout more than thirty years. The feeling last night and again this morning may do the trick. A switch of a different kind? I don't mind. Furnace. Not in the cavern, though. Damp and cold, that one. 'Help make the bed'. What to do? Folding in half, these late days. Folding in half. I don't know what to do anymore. Late. Very late. Today. Hmm... The usual? My temporary laundry drain? Probably. Something around the house? Probably. Is anything going to be different than yesterday? I don't know. The usual routine could actually be a part of what is holding me down, believe it or not. The comfort inherent in being here and going through those movements each day may have added up to removing my ability to go outside the norm. I'm not sure, but a feeling in the middle of the night (isn't this still the middle?) pulled at me to make a more dramatic change than I have in a very long time. I am concerned. What happens if I do nothing? Or has that already been established? Nothing crazy is being suggested, only a slight alteration in the way I go about my weekdays. I don't know, honestly. I just don't know of what I am capable anymore. The funny thing is that I am an expert at positioning myself for maximum comfort -- both of mind and body -- yet when it comes to doing something I feel may improve me, the effort feels enormous. I suppose more consideration is on tap. Ellen there. Nothing in the past, but she struck me just now for whatever reason. Brilliant, that one. Oh fuck, no more Ellen. I see that she is now he, and the name changed to Elliot. Well, fuck me in a blue dress, anyway. Unbelievable that one of the cutest faces ever is no longer a woman. I suppose these things happen. Off the list. What a fucking waste when a beautiful female becomes a male. The world needs more males like it needs to be struck by another fucking planet. Ugh. Bye, Ellen.
Wind again. Wind in my head and outside, although I cannot see because of the hour. Dark out there. Pitch. Rain may be coming but I can't recall. The blue dress remains empty. The cavern does not care about anything. Water dripping, the sound of the wind outside, and that pretty dress swaying as if it is destined to do so. I don't know what to think. Symmetry there. Mustard again. Blue, but not the dress. Mustard and Ellen. Er... Whatever. Mustard. Just mustard all over the place. Change making changes. Put yourself to the ground. Circles again. I see no other avenues. The cavern may remain for the long haul, the dress forever. Wind again and again. The dress is blowing gently, calling. I cannot stare at it any longer. Famke with red hair. Very odd. Just five in the morning now. There will not be any light until the better part of two hours passes. I don't like being up this early. Uncomfortable. I still don't know if anything will change today, or if I will do things differently. I just don't fucking know. Sometimes it seems a good idea while other times not really. The compulsion which developed during the film has lessened but still there. I might make changes. Or maybe I'll hit the booze at seven in the morning and turn into a drunken wreck before lunch. I don't know. Do you?
The walls are moving into the cavern and the wind is making their effort difficult. I don't mind because the cavern pays no mind. I look over there to the left and see all the stuff on the wall and it is moving. You know what I mean. At least I have yet to crawl over there. Green and guns steal the fun. From there to there, one more time; Breathe the air, smell the wine; Everything bare, everything mine. There is no understanding. There is no understanding. There is no understanding. There is no understanding. I keep thinking about what I saw. There can be no going back now, though. I cannot forget. I never forget anything, really. It all stays in there, the good being overshadowed by the bad and the uncomfortable. I need to get it out and burn the memory. I have to. The alternative is what I am becoming. And I did it to myself for the millionth time. I really did. No one else there, just me. Maybe this really was the genesis of more problems than I could have imagined. I don't know, but it could have worked against me. If so, I did it to myself yet again. The only answer -- the one I have mentioned many times -- could be in the wings. Or in this cavern. 331. She is out there."
Copyright ©2002-2024 comainterrupted.com All rights reserved All other trademarks, logos and graphics are the property of their respective owners Created by Brandywine Engineering using Microsoft Visual Studio 2022 and .NET Framework 4.8 Questions? Comments? Anything? Gather your thoughts and compose a message to the psychos in charge
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