Intrinsic twists make effortless turns. Fabricated notions stacked up neatly, looking for a place to hide. It’s a room full of seven; all cards out on the table.
‘Go fish’ said Giovanni, his crude box haircut shining greasy under a rusted pewter light. Smoky tendrils shroud the scene, catching the tension in the atmosphere between white whirls.
Luciana rolled her eyes, ‘You said that last time,' her eyes slanted bold and full of vigor, hair matching fire. 'and so I tried it and you slapped my cigar out of my hand as I reached towards the pile.’
‘Luciana, you are so full of shit.’ Tom said. He was pretty plain, couldn’t scare a mouse with his compacted face sucked inbred.
‘Tom, no one asked you anything, yet you continue to produce these ideas that no one really cares for. Except for toilets, they’re alright, I don’t mind them.’ said Akachi, smirking a blinding gleam against gradient opaque skin.
‘Guys, what if we..’ Cecilia stretched out from the furthest end of the table and smothered her scrawny outstretched fingers over the pile, resulting in a fanned out fractal shape similar to a mandala with a hole in the middle. Long hair, clumped and sparse, curtained ritualistic from her roots, flowed down onto the table.
They all turned to Nathan who had snapped the room into alarm with his silence, then back at each other, catching eyes repeatedly.
'I’ve had enough of this game’ said Samuel, protracting his awkward and angular frame to stand.
In line with a depraved and sunken atmosphere, roaches that had appeared to display a triumph over evolution crawled garbage slime over a piss stained carpet, institutional green. Uneven remnants collected from an encroaching alleyway were strewn all across. Inseparable from the alley itself, an industrial sized heavy metal entryway embossed with a defunct hatch that resembled the physique of a submarine caste began to creak its own weight.
Luciana flinched, anticipating intrusion. Akachi met a glint with Tom and they shared a growing laughter. ‘Girl,’ Cecelia said, raising a smirk, ‘The seal broke before you were born.’ She rose to trail Samuel who had intuitively slid like a shadow to assist with widening the creak, his five fingertips gently clasped the expanse of thick inching metal, stopping the volition of unknown forces that had contributed to piquing his curiosity.
Tom bounced off of his seat, clapping a sharp invasive pitch that eluded reverberation and remained stark as it was enacted in the moment.
Akachi flinched; he preferred movement to bleed into a groove, none of this unawares tirade garbage Tom seemed to be an expert in.
Giovanni followed, naturally the first to criticize their charade, ‘Can anyone explain to me, why we were playing go fish? There is no subtlety to go fish beyond trusting your own assumption of a character whose deal was cut by chance.’
Tom shoved Samuel out of the way, who had grown distracted from opening their route outside by the tightening of complex foray Giovanni had summoned.
Samuel lumbered, cutting air graceless, slipping over glistening roach-trails and indiscernible lost scraps to finally roll into a placid Nathan, still seated and expressionless.
‘Let’s skip this joint’ said Tom.
All but Tom turned to Nathan, who sighed a detached nod in response.
‘I know. Maybe proclamation makes him feel important.’
Nathan stood brisk, surveying the room one final time.
Tom motioned for Nathan to exit first, and so they left no trace aside from an open window and an unfinished game.
Down a cacophonous whorl they embarked, smog clung to their reflective suits, flickering enmeshed lights in unstable directions at passers-by. From a contorted run-off caused by moisture in the eye, glaring artificial signs angled a wavering dimension beyond anchored lines.
Shuffling, ambiguous feet, shared by all seven, assist with distinctions between blurred exits and entrances. Walking on two legs, eager to define memories they would cherish against different surfaces, nuance took shape. Whether false or contrived, appearance reflects forms of disclosure and depends on context for security measures. Foolishly naked, ascribed to a notion, their dignity sprawled out and shackled bittersweet by collarbones nesting to avoid the cold.
They shared the same wonder, was this curated or magic?
‘Cecelia,’ said Luciana. There had always been an unspoken rivalry between them.
‘Why don’t you take care of yourself?’
Cecilia snorted. ‘Subjugating yourself to chemistry is narcissism.’ she said.
‘And letting go of perception isn’t?’ said Luciana.
‘GIRLS!’ They all turned to Akachi, ‘No one cares.’ Akachi said.
‘Of course a cretin with no sense for structure would say that.’ said Tom.
They continued pummeling down the boulevard.
‘Structure is insecurity, it’s not my fault that patterns don’t speak to you.’ said Akachi.
Rustling with strangers.
‘Oh no, they do. It’s an unspoken code, to be deciphered by bondage.’ said Tom.
Nathan halted at the foot of a kebab joint, resulting in a chain stumble with Samuel once again at the mercy of Nathans feet. Nathan inhaled, his frustration serrated.
‘Honestly,’ he said ‘What difference does it make?’
Samuel smiled goofy, ‘plagiarism!’ he said.
Nathan smirked. Bewildered and restless, Cecilia, Luciana, Tom and Akachi, all leaned their respective fields toward Giovanni, who shrugged pocketing his hands. ‘I’m not hungry.’ he said.
‘And I’m a vegetarian!’ Luciana said.
Tom learned in close to Luciana, ‘So’ he said, ‘What’s your methodology?’
Akachi roared in amusement, ‘Look at the vampires connecting! What a circus!’
Cecilia smirked, unable to contain herself, she folded over a tickle, ‘A wild ride based on algorithms and choices!’ she said.
‘Actually guys, why are we here?’ Asked Giovanni, bored of fruitless antics. Nathan lit a cigarette, inhaled, and pointed to the gutter.
Snails having sex.
‘Gross!’ said Luciana.
‘It’s more of a welcome image than those cockroaches we caught having sex in Nathans ashtray.’ said Tom.
‘Alright guys, let’s go inside. I hear club 45 has some devious corners.’ said Nathan.
Cultural thorns surround a bass, with each thought attuned to jackets listed originally at different prices and reliant on socio-economic conditions of possibility, now in the hands of a fate at the discretion of the jacket owner. A concrete modality is sat attenuated to stricken features, pondering gravity due to an overwhelming sense of urgency coupled with the kind of senseless inebriation that provokes sorrow from an unwelcome parental bond. In opposition to invasive reminders that echo conjectures related to marionette soles, scuffing rubber, a distinct compatibility merges with a plush fibre ménage. Shoes are an accurate representation of where you stand, they are constantly moving unless unoccupied. Belief in the harmony of jutting engineered lasers, made possible by members that reside within the community, is matched even with a breadth of questionable personalities trained immaculate by standard. Incorporating metamorphosis can be achieved by hiding behind symbols.
‘We cannot fly.’ said Nathan.
They had gravitated to the rooftop and joined a tribal atmosphere; fake grass and tiki warmth nestled between electronic screens were playing videos reminiscent of Instagram filters hugging interspersed moments of relaxation.
‘We are stuck to the idea of other things.’
‘It’s just a consideration.’ said Tom
‘I never considered it before.’ said Akachi
‘Yeah, but it goes a wee step further.’ said Cecilia ‘I’m an Aquarius with a Taurus moon’ she said ‘Taurus is my anchor.’
‘Okay hang on.’ said Luciana ‘My closest are Aquarius.’ She said. ‘Has always been my favorite sign. I used to be jealous of you.’
‘It’s an ongoing metaphysical motif.’ Said Cecilia
‘you and I are too opposite, but at the same time that can really work. The other side is the wind that brings me up and I’m the earth that grounds it.’ said Luciana
‘I have this worldview.’ said Cecilia. ‘So, I’m a solipsist essentially. I believe that we are all one being. I’ve been you and you have been me, etc.. however.. I do not have a conception of the soul. I think that, if you combine this, you end up with a worldview that believes what it thinks over time, on your own.’
‘Oh what the fuck you are a Taurus moon! How did I not freak about this before!’ said Luciana
‘According to your conception.’ said Cecilia. ‘I become something other than you.’
‘I wasn’t as into it when I first asked you which was like a year ago.’ said Luciana
‘Yeah. It’s insane. I believe in astrology because of it. Taurus is my anchor.’ said Cecilia
‘We are all the same thing!’ said Luciana
‘Which keeps me functional’ said Cecilia
‘Sis!’ said Luciana
‘yes, but me and you’ said Cecilia
‘Please for the love of god do a Vipassana’ said Luciana
‘especially because we are literally the same thing’ said Cecila
‘You do not understand how much this is going to change your entire world and life view. Ying and yang..’ said Luciana
‘Yes, I am prone to breaks’ said Cecilia ‘I can’t snap my conception of reality yet. It’s not my time. Trust me.’
‘You need to be more grounded, spend time I kid you not hugging trees but yoga, it brings you inside your body.’ said Luciana
‘There is a side to me as well, that requires contemplation’ said Cecilia
‘That is the ego.’ said Luciana
‘I found a way in, no, listen.’ said Cecilia
‘Listening, sorry.’ said Luciana
‘I’ll try and explain.’ said Cecilia. ‘Okay, so. You know you tell me x yoga, right. Now. I am not familiar with this idea. However, I am assuming that it assists in teaching a particular transcendental state, beyond ego-driven game. The sole idea of this and here it is – connecting with your fate. NOW. There is no limitation of how to reach to connect with your fate. I reckon this is crucial. I have always been heavily magnetized to outlets related to conveying my experience, which means in many ways I am not attune to it. However, the way I translate my experience, is the way I experience. Now! Back to the original point – you know this yoga I have no idea about. It’s a complex and resplendent field of knowledge in itself. However, I am ignorant and know nothing of the splendor of this knowledge. The same goes with for example, my familiarity with Bergsonian duration. My life is an attempt to describe the way we experience time as to be an intuitive thing that relies on being aware of movement.’
‘I do know about this’ said Luciana, laughing ‘A little, anyway. Only what the universe has shown me. I don’t believe time exists though, of course..’ she said ‘I really love what you’re saying. It’s just difficult because there’s layers in which we exist in and I have so far just transitioned to another, which, can be a scary place if you aren’t ready.. but it’s truth and is only scary because the intellect is not included, not even a single bit, which means one cannot understand it, perse. It is all felt on an experiential level, like the difference between how honey tastes and its description.’
‘I think it’s necessary for evolution.’ said Cecelia.'I very much believe that time exists. Within time, that is. Time is not without conception. I see it on another side. The side of coherence.’
‘The problem is.’ Said Luciana ‘Is that the only thing that’s left once a cycle of time finishes, is the cycles repetition and that process is therefore infinite. It can never end, it always starts again. It’s like being on the edge of the coin instead of seeing the two sides to it. The crack in between. Intellect is great, don’t get me wrong. But it is greater if we use it as a tool. There is no going back. There never was. But now you are aware of it. And that creates a big shift. One word of advice. Humour. Always, always. Carry humour with you.'
Glorious magnitudes are a historical problem. Tessellation shifts the room, atmospheric pressure seeks to categorize an origin, losing sight of precious metals and what they can do for us in the moment.
At a crossroads, torn between facade and inscription. Tom frowned.
'Luciana.' he said, 'I thought you were logical.'
She blushed. 'You don't understand women, Tom.' she turned to Akachi, who was preoccupied with something else.
'Tom, there are differences between reflections and truths' Said Nathan, soon thereafter retreating to justify why he had explicated such an obvious statement.
Tom shook his head. 'But appearances are everything.' he said.
'Irrelevant bullshit.' Said Akachi, swaying his hips to a samba, 'You need to get up in the groove, brother!' he clicked his fingers to the rhythm, beaming at the ceiling like an undiscovered angel.
The tunnel of inspiration was just a message away. Nathan trundled home dejected, confused by his involvement. He couldn't believe how much time was wasted on stress. I mean, who gives a FUCK that a word came out wrong? Or that the bus didn't stop for him? Now he was going to be late for yet another day of 'wheel of fortune', where on every wedge on the wheel is written 'as hard as you try, you will never make it', except for one wedge that says, 'jackpot'. Giovanni touches briefly on such controversies, but he never yields to the defeat of hopelessness. In a way, Giovanni is admirable. He partakes, but he questions his position. Nathan noted that Giovanni had a tendency to fall into absence, through no fault of anything other than a grave intimidation provided dynamic. Nathan looked over at Samuel, whose attention was fixated on his hands and shoes. He didn't pity Samuel, an innocent player. He wished he could be Samuel. Seemingly sharp. Ignorant, free and loyal.
‘Go fish’ said Giovanni, his crude box haircut shining greasy under a rusted pewter light. Smoky tendrils shroud the scene, catching the tension in the atmosphere between white whirls.
Luciana rolled her eyes, ‘You said that last time,' her eyes slanted bold and full of vigor, hair matching fire. 'and so I tried it and you slapped my cigar out of my hand as I reached towards the pile.’
‘Luciana, you are so full of shit.’ Tom said. He was pretty plain, couldn’t scare a mouse with his compacted face sucked inbred.
‘Tom, no one asked you anything, yet you continue to produce these ideas that no one really cares for. Except for toilets, they’re alright, I don’t mind them.’ said Akachi, smirking a blinding gleam against gradient opaque skin.
‘Guys, what if we..’ Cecilia stretched out from the furthest end of the table and smothered her scrawny outstretched fingers over the pile, resulting in a fanned out fractal shape similar to a mandala with a hole in the middle. Long hair, clumped and sparse, curtained ritualistic from her roots, flowed down onto the table.
They all turned to Nathan who had snapped the room into alarm with his silence, then back at each other, catching eyes repeatedly.
'I’ve had enough of this game’ said Samuel, protracting his awkward and angular frame to stand.
In line with a depraved and sunken atmosphere, roaches that had appeared to display a triumph over evolution crawled garbage slime over a piss stained carpet, institutional green. Uneven remnants collected from an encroaching alleyway were strewn all across. Inseparable from the alley itself, an industrial sized heavy metal entryway embossed with a defunct hatch that resembled the physique of a submarine caste began to creak its own weight.
Luciana flinched, anticipating intrusion. Akachi met a glint with Tom and they shared a growing laughter. ‘Girl,’ Cecelia said, raising a smirk, ‘The seal broke before you were born.’ She rose to trail Samuel who had intuitively slid like a shadow to assist with widening the creak, his five fingertips gently clasped the expanse of thick inching metal, stopping the volition of unknown forces that had contributed to piquing his curiosity.
Tom bounced off of his seat, clapping a sharp invasive pitch that eluded reverberation and remained stark as it was enacted in the moment.
Akachi flinched; he preferred movement to bleed into a groove, none of this unawares tirade garbage Tom seemed to be an expert in.
Giovanni followed, naturally the first to criticize their charade, ‘Can anyone explain to me, why we were playing go fish? There is no subtlety to go fish beyond trusting your own assumption of a character whose deal was cut by chance.’
Tom shoved Samuel out of the way, who had grown distracted from opening their route outside by the tightening of complex foray Giovanni had summoned.
Samuel lumbered, cutting air graceless, slipping over glistening roach-trails and indiscernible lost scraps to finally roll into a placid Nathan, still seated and expressionless.
‘Let’s skip this joint’ said Tom.
All but Tom turned to Nathan, who sighed a detached nod in response.
‘I know. Maybe proclamation makes him feel important.’
Nathan stood brisk, surveying the room one final time.
Tom motioned for Nathan to exit first, and so they left no trace aside from an open window and an unfinished game.
Down a cacophonous whorl they embarked, smog clung to their reflective suits, flickering enmeshed lights in unstable directions at passers-by. From a contorted run-off caused by moisture in the eye, glaring artificial signs angled a wavering dimension beyond anchored lines.
Shuffling, ambiguous feet, shared by all seven, assist with distinctions between blurred exits and entrances. Walking on two legs, eager to define memories they would cherish against different surfaces, nuance took shape. Whether false or contrived, appearance reflects forms of disclosure and depends on context for security measures. Foolishly naked, ascribed to a notion, their dignity sprawled out and shackled bittersweet by collarbones nesting to avoid the cold.
They shared the same wonder, was this curated or magic?
‘Cecelia,’ said Luciana. There had always been an unspoken rivalry between them.
‘Why don’t you take care of yourself?’
Cecilia snorted. ‘Subjugating yourself to chemistry is narcissism.’ she said.
‘And letting go of perception isn’t?’ said Luciana.
‘GIRLS!’ They all turned to Akachi, ‘No one cares.’ Akachi said.
‘Of course a cretin with no sense for structure would say that.’ said Tom.
They continued pummeling down the boulevard.
‘Structure is insecurity, it’s not my fault that patterns don’t speak to you.’ said Akachi.
Rustling with strangers.
‘Oh no, they do. It’s an unspoken code, to be deciphered by bondage.’ said Tom.
Nathan halted at the foot of a kebab joint, resulting in a chain stumble with Samuel once again at the mercy of Nathans feet. Nathan inhaled, his frustration serrated.
‘Honestly,’ he said ‘What difference does it make?’
Samuel smiled goofy, ‘plagiarism!’ he said.
Nathan smirked. Bewildered and restless, Cecilia, Luciana, Tom and Akachi, all leaned their respective fields toward Giovanni, who shrugged pocketing his hands. ‘I’m not hungry.’ he said.
‘And I’m a vegetarian!’ Luciana said.
Tom learned in close to Luciana, ‘So’ he said, ‘What’s your methodology?’
Akachi roared in amusement, ‘Look at the vampires connecting! What a circus!’
Cecilia smirked, unable to contain herself, she folded over a tickle, ‘A wild ride based on algorithms and choices!’ she said.
‘Actually guys, why are we here?’ Asked Giovanni, bored of fruitless antics. Nathan lit a cigarette, inhaled, and pointed to the gutter.
Snails having sex.
‘Gross!’ said Luciana.
‘It’s more of a welcome image than those cockroaches we caught having sex in Nathans ashtray.’ said Tom.
‘Alright guys, let’s go inside. I hear club 45 has some devious corners.’ said Nathan.
Cultural thorns surround a bass, with each thought attuned to jackets listed originally at different prices and reliant on socio-economic conditions of possibility, now in the hands of a fate at the discretion of the jacket owner. A concrete modality is sat attenuated to stricken features, pondering gravity due to an overwhelming sense of urgency coupled with the kind of senseless inebriation that provokes sorrow from an unwelcome parental bond. In opposition to invasive reminders that echo conjectures related to marionette soles, scuffing rubber, a distinct compatibility merges with a plush fibre ménage. Shoes are an accurate representation of where you stand, they are constantly moving unless unoccupied. Belief in the harmony of jutting engineered lasers, made possible by members that reside within the community, is matched even with a breadth of questionable personalities trained immaculate by standard. Incorporating metamorphosis can be achieved by hiding behind symbols.
‘We cannot fly.’ said Nathan.
They had gravitated to the rooftop and joined a tribal atmosphere; fake grass and tiki warmth nestled between electronic screens were playing videos reminiscent of Instagram filters hugging interspersed moments of relaxation.
‘We are stuck to the idea of other things.’
‘It’s just a consideration.’ said Tom
‘I never considered it before.’ said Akachi
‘Yeah, but it goes a wee step further.’ said Cecilia ‘I’m an Aquarius with a Taurus moon’ she said ‘Taurus is my anchor.’
‘Okay hang on.’ said Luciana ‘My closest are Aquarius.’ She said. ‘Has always been my favorite sign. I used to be jealous of you.’
‘It’s an ongoing metaphysical motif.’ Said Cecilia
‘you and I are too opposite, but at the same time that can really work. The other side is the wind that brings me up and I’m the earth that grounds it.’ said Luciana
‘I have this worldview.’ said Cecilia. ‘So, I’m a solipsist essentially. I believe that we are all one being. I’ve been you and you have been me, etc.. however.. I do not have a conception of the soul. I think that, if you combine this, you end up with a worldview that believes what it thinks over time, on your own.’
‘Oh what the fuck you are a Taurus moon! How did I not freak about this before!’ said Luciana
‘According to your conception.’ said Cecilia. ‘I become something other than you.’
‘I wasn’t as into it when I first asked you which was like a year ago.’ said Luciana
‘Yeah. It’s insane. I believe in astrology because of it. Taurus is my anchor.’ said Cecilia
‘We are all the same thing!’ said Luciana
‘Which keeps me functional’ said Cecilia
‘Sis!’ said Luciana
‘yes, but me and you’ said Cecilia
‘Please for the love of god do a Vipassana’ said Luciana
‘especially because we are literally the same thing’ said Cecila
‘You do not understand how much this is going to change your entire world and life view. Ying and yang..’ said Luciana
‘Yes, I am prone to breaks’ said Cecilia ‘I can’t snap my conception of reality yet. It’s not my time. Trust me.’
‘You need to be more grounded, spend time I kid you not hugging trees but yoga, it brings you inside your body.’ said Luciana
‘There is a side to me as well, that requires contemplation’ said Cecilia
‘That is the ego.’ said Luciana
‘I found a way in, no, listen.’ said Cecilia
‘Listening, sorry.’ said Luciana
‘I’ll try and explain.’ said Cecilia. ‘Okay, so. You know you tell me x yoga, right. Now. I am not familiar with this idea. However, I am assuming that it assists in teaching a particular transcendental state, beyond ego-driven game. The sole idea of this and here it is – connecting with your fate. NOW. There is no limitation of how to reach to connect with your fate. I reckon this is crucial. I have always been heavily magnetized to outlets related to conveying my experience, which means in many ways I am not attune to it. However, the way I translate my experience, is the way I experience. Now! Back to the original point – you know this yoga I have no idea about. It’s a complex and resplendent field of knowledge in itself. However, I am ignorant and know nothing of the splendor of this knowledge. The same goes with for example, my familiarity with Bergsonian duration. My life is an attempt to describe the way we experience time as to be an intuitive thing that relies on being aware of movement.’
‘I do know about this’ said Luciana, laughing ‘A little, anyway. Only what the universe has shown me. I don’t believe time exists though, of course..’ she said ‘I really love what you’re saying. It’s just difficult because there’s layers in which we exist in and I have so far just transitioned to another, which, can be a scary place if you aren’t ready.. but it’s truth and is only scary because the intellect is not included, not even a single bit, which means one cannot understand it, perse. It is all felt on an experiential level, like the difference between how honey tastes and its description.’
‘I think it’s necessary for evolution.’ said Cecelia.'I very much believe that time exists. Within time, that is. Time is not without conception. I see it on another side. The side of coherence.’
‘The problem is.’ Said Luciana ‘Is that the only thing that’s left once a cycle of time finishes, is the cycles repetition and that process is therefore infinite. It can never end, it always starts again. It’s like being on the edge of the coin instead of seeing the two sides to it. The crack in between. Intellect is great, don’t get me wrong. But it is greater if we use it as a tool. There is no going back. There never was. But now you are aware of it. And that creates a big shift. One word of advice. Humour. Always, always. Carry humour with you.'
Glorious magnitudes are a historical problem. Tessellation shifts the room, atmospheric pressure seeks to categorize an origin, losing sight of precious metals and what they can do for us in the moment.
At a crossroads, torn between facade and inscription. Tom frowned.
'Luciana.' he said, 'I thought you were logical.'
She blushed. 'You don't understand women, Tom.' she turned to Akachi, who was preoccupied with something else.
'Tom, there are differences between reflections and truths' Said Nathan, soon thereafter retreating to justify why he had explicated such an obvious statement.
Tom shook his head. 'But appearances are everything.' he said.
'Irrelevant bullshit.' Said Akachi, swaying his hips to a samba, 'You need to get up in the groove, brother!' he clicked his fingers to the rhythm, beaming at the ceiling like an undiscovered angel.
The tunnel of inspiration was just a message away. Nathan trundled home dejected, confused by his involvement. He couldn't believe how much time was wasted on stress. I mean, who gives a FUCK that a word came out wrong? Or that the bus didn't stop for him? Now he was going to be late for yet another day of 'wheel of fortune', where on every wedge on the wheel is written 'as hard as you try, you will never make it', except for one wedge that says, 'jackpot'. Giovanni touches briefly on such controversies, but he never yields to the defeat of hopelessness. In a way, Giovanni is admirable. He partakes, but he questions his position. Nathan noted that Giovanni had a tendency to fall into absence, through no fault of anything other than a grave intimidation provided dynamic. Nathan looked over at Samuel, whose attention was fixated on his hands and shoes. He didn't pity Samuel, an innocent player. He wished he could be Samuel. Seemingly sharp. Ignorant, free and loyal.
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