A Sorcerers Dream Everyone Elses Nightmare

If a Pinecone could talk to the River sniffing each others butt. And limbo was artificial intelligents working for the stars, gathering up everybodys numbers and casting its own favorites, I asked a computer techie if theirs a mystery with machines, was like asking the same for science. Surgery the thrill of incision, pulling the plug. Life is a plug, my dad fell off the ladder with a can of paint and made a brilliant abstact splatter at the cost of his wrist, pins and rods. The wind went wild navigating through the trees. River doesn't like pepto bismo when she opened the cupboard with her nose and licked all the bacon grease from the garbage can. When I opened the door there was shit and vomit all over. Then she ran as fast as she could down to the river and Pinecone went hiding in the shrubs. Our survival instincts is what makes us. I think my laughter scared them both cause I have a tendency to cackle. I love disorder, cleaning up the messes, after I took them in a exclusive ravine and everything was so calm with the clouds rolling in. To be as unpridictable as nature is my ultimate goal. I couldn't help but to feel like a god walking out with the clouds and rocks. I have a silent confession, I love nature more than I do man and its sometimes hard to feel compassion in this state I'm in. I try to watch television to help but its so mundane that it makes it all worse. I think that my book in the coffee shop is misunderstood, instead when the milk was boycotted from my buisness and my appeal to Lee with the help of Uncle Dave. When I got a call from a collector about the restitution fees, I really threw the dice about never getting my statement and its true, I want to pay the fucker off, I really do. Opportunity is a gamble in the world of art, except when you are the art or a simple masterpiece. Most don't see themselves or others in that light. If you don't have any use than what use are ya, espicially when somebody else has to clean up your shit.