AFI - IBYP! *
at the end as usual
follow the method of smoke and mirrors fog
val
katana and a glow in your broom
My Home. The basket of laundry. A colorful patchwork made of underwear, bras, shirts and pants. There in the middle: a red jumpsuit. Zen enlightenment.
Phase hypnagogic . Moment outside of time in which blend into a smoothie mystical horizon of reality and that of the dream, when you are not awake but still not sleeping, and thoughts arise without there being a I to dominate. In the hypnagogic phase I saw Gerry Scotti playing bridge with a punk platypus (can you imagine a platypus punk?).
Phase hypnopompic . Do not sleep more but you are still awake. A picture emerges from the back of my mind. The white table well laid, the glasses with a green background, the jug-jug on the saucer-vasocolmanico blue fuchsia, pink towels, double cutlery, water Levissima, embroidered curtains, windows in front of the building that you can see, the broken chairs, plastic bow-legged table, the carpet (it's a rug?) on the heater, the floor, the mysterious picture, a huge mobile that hangs on the left and lucid and the belief ordinate on the right, another carpet on the floor. The dishes are all filled except for that of the father. Flan with spinach and gorgonzola gratin or lasagna baked with parsley and rosemary? It seems real. Serenity. I take the jug-jug-vasocolmanico green and I notice that inside there is a little yellow thing that moves, like a lemon with two eyes. It has no mouth, but smiling at me. And 'Candy Darling ! - I think. Damn, I'm already awake.
rational discourse will return tomorrow tomorrow
harmony and lightness
tomorrow cheerful contentment
hic rex iacet sepultus inclitus dawdlerus in insula virtualonia
Humor is an affirmation of Dignity, a declaration of man's superiority to All That befalls HIM.
The friendly postmodern world. One day, when the latent telepathic abilities will be developed in me, I will understand. In short, none of you (except Arianna Moyevich Edenclaus) knows who is really Paul Hackett. Few people know the crazy obsession to live in a Kafkaesque world. Ok. Long life to men, women, dolphins, pterodactyls, aliens, Olympics, arbre magique, calcium, phosphorus and flossing. Long live the expanding universe and all that Ambaradan.
* A Foolish Interlude - I Beg Your Pardon!
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