La gran sorpresa ha sido la demo del #30birds, un juego con un aspecto visual muy llamativo y una historia a priori épica, pero mamarracha, en el mejor de los sentidos, en la práctica. A deseados de cabeza. https://www.instagram.com/p/Cew2K-cKLxz/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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The answer's 'tween the mylein
[inside a quantum tunnel].
Familiar asa witch's cat,
in midst of a bluddle.
Patient to be cleaved
beset on sides by walls
...amongst a grove of weeping...
willow trees,
Clarion called.
The Bloody Eyes good fortune; was met on
Underwood. Dear darling Sarsaparilla,
said herself he could. Less than dimmer shimmer-
ing vanilla extract dreams, parented a
fawn evolve in dusk and dawn it seems.
A peace of both their minds, they volunteered
in kind, to harmonize with heart strings steered
toward forever intertwined. Lillies. -
The flowers flourished, in a garden that
they grew. And besides sunrise the sky
for them was forever blue. A hue with
dual faces, coupled in their eyes -
the gaze of myth, time can't resist,
and is bathed in fire. The cataracs
Set in, given instilled
genetics, and ergonomic rainclouds
dwelled atop a head that's preguhnant.
Trimestered with: swollen doubts that festered.
Amongst the flood, fantasized catalysed
calamity asundered. The sinews
now unlatched, their tendrils now inside.
He never ever redirected both
his bloody eyes. First entranced, and then transfixed,
the pupils had learned lessons. A bridge was
built, a river crossed, with ten twenty-sevens.
At last, the photosynthesis. It was
happening again, for
Sarsaparilla &
The B-E, the anther and the stamen.
Pungent bloom ensued, nourished by
their neurons, and memories like hieroglyphics
glued together as eggs of sturgeons -
attached to cardiacs, sashimied and
butterflied, then coated in the purest
white rice that one can find. They ate them off
each other, nude in a city of candles,
A delicacy so delicate they both
donned crowns of brambles. The season's now the
Rabbit's, to hide prismatic eggs. Though, ex-
pound-ed, the secret is betwixt
virgin mary's legs.
That girl down the lane?
The one with ginger hair? I heard she got
her cherry popped, in a game of truth or
dare. The lies - they spread like margarine,
across a cheetah's pelt. Svelte in the
Savannah, in heat is all she felt. But
the applause was much too loud, and drowned out the symphony. So Mary had to stray away
from polygamy. Whiskey licked her lips, and felines bit her tongue. Before even
Eyes could bat a lash, the month of May was
done. So him and Sas. evaporated,
off to paradise. And he never ever
redirected both his Bloody Eyes.
My brain is a viscus kalaeidescope
of liquids. A kind of chromatic soup.
This cosmic phantasmagorical yoke
where winged creatures spawn, and fly the coup -
Soon, heading south to my mind's eye to roost.
In an infinite loop the circus rings,
around the rosie the girls always sing. -
...
(Jimminy Cricket's Long Lost Monologue in Space)
(Love less, lest love loveless. Love love instead)
(Burn cherry. Til' your breathing very last breaths.)
(Run away, evanescence. Dance towards daylights.)
(Thin, white, sticks, made with little, orange, tips.)
(There ain't nothin'. like bein' killed by friends?)
...
- On edge of a cliff, to the beach below,
one may only ascend if the descent
is slow. Or perhaps if frozen in cold
letters in ledgers, or a death sentence
composed by birds with their own feathers
dipped in pink ink, tapped from the base of my skull.
Get off the carousel to join the foal.
Edem aims, shoots, and scores.
Bullseye! Took out the temple.
Missing from point blank isn't as rare as you'd think,
To be sure he sucked the shotgun.
Tongue and cheek,
and he formed a whole new cavity
beyond the realm of his teeth.
He didn't die though/
\instead woke up in the hospital,
bound in foreign cloth.
Which he found...
comforting.
彼のうつ病は、硬化されていた！
She
thinks she only looks best in bright lights
and with
home-made holes in her tights.
But,
insists that the switch is flicked ...
every time during sex.
...Off.
Turned off like an exit ramp -
stemming from the highway.
An exit like ...
a small vein, branching out
from an arteriole system
keeping us all afloat.
A float,
that's what she was
and is,
Post a,
snort & a,
sniff.
For two,
transgression laced,
reasons;
She wasn't just high -
one penetration and she'd pop,
and then drip drip drop -
heralding passengers all
to a firey doom.
