American Beauty & Blood Cultures

When a truck rides your ass on a back road, then speeds past head on with a car going the other direction that they swerve into a ditch...black truck, devil face on the head plate...marines on the back...It's like the Eleusinian mysteries play all over again...White Rose....Red Rose...When the angels in the mirror have it again...ready to spill blood for that heaven on earth horseshit play. I mean when it looks like the past generation...it's all just a style, so let's put her on trial...Religious-Military state and beyond...I mean when it's a global crew that can transform American Democracy into a veneer of itself...just smile...be happy...orient toward the mirror...look the part so a crew can set her on fire...nothing like the WWII behavior, but hey, "He's" got the look! He's got Hollywood love...He's painting the fucking sky blue...man handling the buds of a flower, ripping them open...everything is in bloom...in his image...a reason for the season...fucking off straight to a heavenly nothing hell....Bravo bones for a sandbox...The door never opened and I wonder why? Be that kind of bad ass...I mean it looks soooo fucking cool at least...Just run the cave wall language and pretend...Be "Saved." Who knew North Korea Adorned with an American Flag, God and Guns baby, new and improved, on that goosestep plan, like a complete dipshit, would be the new fucking American "Freedom" deal. #Headupassholewithasmile #PlatoCaveDongAdventurer #StaticDistortionBrain #ILooksLikesAmericanFuckOff #ShinyPuckerNewEmperor #VIPJC-Creeper #SurfingonaROCKet #BubbleGun(m)...D.O.G...POP #MirrorVictoryisYours #HolyWaterDouchingSaves #AntagonismMasterBait #OnDesertedHook #BoneDryDeathLiving #RedRoseCrown

Moving right along...Stung...

And clearly one of the JC's will not apply to my design at all...but you know, nice faces in the mirror pretending and lying....Angels on Earth...because that's a real thing...totally...absolutely...Honey...and yet this song....Stung...I wonder....the symbolism....

Cornering Ambitions





Oh look, she's a superman...sure...of course...that...again...on a different path..a star in the making...lights, camera, action....

Speech Police

JC Worshippers

Genius

 

Only 10 minutes in...Range Rover adventures, on non-options of doing what has been done...a shared bedroom and altar boy recollections....the identity of northern England...holy fuck...this is fantastic...It's like Catherine Tate and Tottenham....Are you a Christian?....Is he Gay?...Who dear, me dear, my dear, no dear..Does your daddy cry? The Trip...Oh, the fabulous W-EST...Always on the rocks...walled up...easily pursed...cold static as a new promotion...isolation as the new desire...Hue-Man, the fuck out of here, exploring color....rejecting the shadow show...astounded among the everyday...She's to be dead...He is to live...Good little boys get their "big man" domain, of course! Play nice as spice, all can be included with...dough-manes...designer hair cuts all day...T-Rips on the stage...ST-Rips Tease all day...paper, scissors, ROCK...lightning strikes among decoded flows...this encode...singing in the rain...the movie could go anywhere I'd imagine, but it seems to always come back to an all too familiar theme. This life. It's really something, even when it's REALLY something....like grapes plucked off the vine....HE LIVES!!!!!!! 

And this is performative...the informatic, the communicative...very little still seem to follow...it isn't an aim to be better than...but rather, it's a new capacity, this informatic method interactivity...unless there is an engagement with the activity...it's typically over the colonial head, by design...I can't help that. It's just the sign of the early time...

Oh these sneezes...

 When someone strategically...and it was...of which one of a Royal network would already have known, as the event was forced...and I paused...Should I do something that would embody something safe and sound, or simply make a term of common courtesy, which has nothing to do with political allegiance, considering, I'm not at all among a nature that corresponds to patriarchy, aka Constantinople, at all, by design....should I say be in good health, of some type of term like that, maybe a German word...but I'm from the prison colony of Georgia...we grew up with the courtesy term of bless you which wasn't about patriarchy or being blessed. It was simply a courtesy term, not even of centuries past of the soul escaping. No. Ethonocentric bigotries aside, it was simply a courtesy, bless you. Not bless your heart, which is a derogatory, but rather among the cultural subtleties of the area, my area, the area I grew up in, and you didn't, a courtesy, of which, I reluctantly did say...with a pause beforehand...bless you, knowing how the classist bigotry play can be used. We shall see.  That is, considering the finest of all manners in grad school,  I seriously doubt there is much room for hope, other than the given a damn in the mirror, that doesn't actually give a damn. So, I pause, say it, and let that spin play among the look like we give a damn crowed goes into action. They have a new traction they manufactured yet again, all with a smile, all with the best intentions, and with a candlelight vigil pre-typed when the blood spills. It's so sad what is happening. We care so much, in the mirror, and yet all of the hell keeps happening, all of our help just keeps missing the bill, among hands conveniently falling short, but look at these angels in frame, among the camera...it's all seeing is believing right...so naturally, the one's winning big had the plan, had the drive, had the heart, and as for the underhanded measure that set the entire matter up...shhhhh.....just go for what looks nice, and for get what's to come in relation...no cost at all for these nice things in the mirror. It is simply to be held at face value, like blue paint striving to paint the harmonies that contextualize space that color the realizable sky blue...no the paint is the new blue, and you, the new and improve blue Monday...How does it feel! Fuck it, smile bitch. This is your time to shine, like it or not. You are the winner in frame...this is your empire, this is your dirt...smile fucker. And I'm okay in produce...much like I'm okay if I'm in a van, etc...I lived next to a castle, and preferred the water on the castle window...even among the world's elite, they follow what I mean. They too, as the one's always on target for those that strive to arrive, follow what I mean. I mean, when  it's you minding your own and then you are beheaded because...I don't know...chocolate cheesecake, tourettes, something off-base, irrational, of shit's fucked up so fuck, kill the fucker, even if we don't know the fucker type of thing...and the the generations beyond, keeping it mirror, mirror, and as for her mad eys, sure thing, loves...she's entirely mad...there is a consensus and it is easy for you, so fuck it...entirely out of line of what happened to your line among the hell, but your angels in the mirror...so it's easy to shine now and all without ever acknowledging the cost, right?  Not to say that is the case, but when ecased with such fine fucking manners...should we all pretend?  You have the best of intentions and the best of wishes to all...like Disney World, and yet something about the path it all paves...like seeing is believing precluding the air we breathe...it's not logical, but when it is the era of easy...fuck it right?  Smile. Good manners. Impromptu assessment of the impoverished one, materially that is, of which is all that is impoverished among this given time...you are the inside to the one that is on the outside, and lilith, and that tradition...when it's a needing of the minds among the mirror...shhh....she's simply something fictional of the generations past...clearly her entire existence was a manufacture of the map...and we've got the latest and greatest of all map innovations, so here we are to remain entirely in charge, in power, and in that way...it's totally going to work out.....no need to call out the corruption when it's a new and improved new clothes universal...shhhhhhhhhh......what comes around will never occur again, and yet, it does...all the time...but shhhhhhhhh....smile.........we've all got this,on the map inc...but of shit....LLC....yet again. If not a band-aid, then a rainbow flag...kittens and unicorns for all...fuck the blood smeared, just shine fuckers...all day every fucking happy day to no end....Great fucking world....

8

 Oh poooh... I am writing  the company exploring the relationship in relation to certain events going on with the company....my email has clipped everything out of order. It's never done that before, but I mean...well, when she knows too much. Maybe?  So I guess I'll just post it here in order instead, not all information but some of it.....


Wendy-to-Wendy....a last note

More of this eyes to the surface dynamic..among a particular network, like a...virgin (Shiny Apples, "SIN" City, stiack the bodies up), Rhea...Demeter, downward spiral, desiring to get to know me, yours/his...truly? and yet, never on the basis of process...This Matriarchy/Patriarchy dynamic...she bleeds, and he's clean hands...thinking of window "pains," and that origin, criss-crossing, to "live" by the "live" tonight, if it bleeds it leads, again, block by block...burrrr it's cold outside...but we are "here," "together," to be in his house...I mean, it's so warm and cozy inside, flesh-to-flesh, body-to-body, paychecks on deck, just look...amazing...

Nine Inch Nails - The Perfect Drug
ionnalee; SAMARITAN

These open arms...what they seem?



Again, considerations, among a particular ontological and epistemological relation with the language itself...

And I do look at this managerial porn and note these shocks to the system...It's like the perfect shiny apple...the irony, among matters never what they seem. When one sees the opening, oh my. These helping hands, into this world, into the labyrinth, and I mean if you happen to pass by a castle...good luck!  I think of taoism, to get to the good one goes through the bad, full-circle.  I think of the contortions of that circle, like a mobius strip. I think of mobius strip to mobius strip. I think of the interactivities between and that mobius strip paired among the mobius strip with opposite chirality.  

Step right up! 


#CastleClub

And that attachment...



Recall painting the roses red....


Recalling She bleeds and He's clean hands, red rose, white rose....and that time when it was white rose, red rose....



And I am having some tea as we tie things up...since we like photos, here's a picture....




It's Rich and Robust...think...

Swift Flavor....


Mechanical-Innovative Flash in the Pan, oh Peter, Wonders...




Real Doll Time Generator....White Rose to Red Rose, Red to White....and poof, all is so Blue....a partnership...maybe an ll see....a grand pipeline.....tubes, again and again....Shadow Show Generator....



That band, Justice, she had no eye(s)....prepping out the ones for the kill....closer - samaritan....again and again....open arms...a policy....This door could be yours...Dr. Zeus Dead Scene Irony..,.Sweet, like coke without the bubbles...synthetic spew...ironic bubblegum dog truth cake...rose on the birthday death bed...time to celebrate...egg shell desert centerfield...Marilyn's Best Friend....Die-Mounds petrifying...white like abandoned ancient statues...



It's like the school days....a lot of scales....get your EYE QUEUE today! 




Thinking of Hot Wax, Candle in the Wind, Killing Moon (sponsored by Alphaville Gorillaz)...It could be a renegade breakdown, typically though that usual break down....break dance...falling out of the sky type...here I come Constantinople....flyentology candidate....surfing on a rocket....carrying a few lightning strikes in the bag...It's all about the bag...Espresso Machiato..back on the ship, safe...and sound?...POP....she needed the color...be a rose...


"Personal Reflections" upon a watery surface (like water upon a window):
Now I'm just a lil' ol' Southern Bell(e) it would seem, though not by argument. To be among a crew, jet set, collegiate debate...Gorillaz and Mr. Bungle stickers...all eyes...I wonder what this could be...she's going down that path...should we warn her...what does she know....and that family unit that cares sooooooooo much (Ron English Angels, on that intelligence spin plan, plenty of paper to go all around) and letting everyone know who I am...the one with the tendencies treated to a variety of violent treatments...she's ready for her killing debut on this finely tuned stage all planned out...and she hasn't a clue....none at all....entirely...and that emerald castle play...SHOCKER.

And I go back to the days with a debate coach...nothing happened...but we'd hang out...no talking...watching TV sometimes...discussing imaginary publications from Pocatello and those tie-DIE shirts and Grateful Dead bears....no lightning strikes among the skull in sight....meanwhile she can always smell a war brewing....Don....Chicago....Doctor....I'm at the gay bar with moby dick in my hand...he was into a very different kind of dick that night...not even the Royal (Dick) veterinary study...lifeless meat seems to be all the rage....slave the slave masters master...Dualing Cobras....Ham-Stir wheel....pick your poison....boo-cocky....and that bartender...that Oxford sweater....and Don walking out the door with me....and this tender's concerned gaze to Don...attempting a subtle head shake (no dribble) of k(no)w.....does Don Key-ho-Pitz get it....Venus fly high traps....at her expense of course...oh my....Tea Party...but let's do get blond....not red? Oh the irony yet again....and again....open your books....read....clockwork blood orange...a renaissance...ti(c)k tok...stars....5-points & Crescents...look at that dichotomy....sand-whiched?....trust witch...switch...honor...roll system....center staged...tac toes (and hands)...table is set...on and on....Trivial Pursuits...A Loving New Kid on the Block Order...Hill Side Checkers...running UP....water flowing DOWN...bunny hole flyentology on the move....full-circle contortionists, moby(dick)-us strip ink....I really like the ones atop Arthur's seat....I'd always feed them on my run....Does Arthur like a bunny on his seat? And I miss those Cadbury curly whurlies I'd pick up at the end of my run at Scotmid. I think of Cornucopias, kind of like a tornado sweeping a home off of its foundation...I always imagined what would be in-store for all that excite over being among the chosen golden ticket HOLD-E.Rs.....Patron-age...All you have to do is step inside....know what you want...a chocolate factory...A bunny upon the seat, living the life? I suppose I could be missing out, no?


I just go back to that time as a small kid, not even four, and the matriarch who would jerk my hair back when she would hug me...at least she didn't have me screw my sister like she did to my aunt and uncles...that abortion...that legal case...for a network you know...so NICE....something like, born into a torture garden...it looks nice though...and my tendencies...there was to be a plan...granted when it's other voices other rooms...how could she possibly follow these matters? Not on the map?

I go further, in relation to my best friend growing up (a network handled him). We loved listening to the Beatles, and not because they sounded pretty. We even had a picture taken with the Beatles theme. This was 8th grade, around the time a teacher, hell bent on, you know, forewarning us and having us all memorize Oh Captain, My Captain...and of course to hear it post University of Edinburgh, 5th Ave, New York...there was humor. I guess she doesn't get it. Let's go with it. Jordan, Nathan and Myself at the family playhouse...to swim with grecian statues...I was thrown in the pool...and that favorite word, prestidigitation...brown-tan paisley-floral linoleum shower room floor...Colin Powell was there, lol....that angular pool outdoors...the mom hiding above the living room area, Sleepy Hollow times, listening in on her father's meetings...It was cute (that building, that roll the credits song, the lyric, world upon shoulders, atlas, the one who is mapping it out...). We had whiskey and cigars. Upon arrival, I can tell Jordan has his concerns. It's not ill-will toward him or his wife. They aren't at the surface. Nathan, I worry about, but that's just how I am. It's not a matter of clinging, it's just...how I am? Still, the mirror and the shadow show could have been a thrill like living next to a castle. And when there is a constant hum of dread?  Not simply for me, but everyone...fading to grey among the sand...it will never make sense to most...

Roll the credits (Roll Tide) strike up the tamborine, if not Dylan, then someone...by the numbers, pay to play, cover songs galore...there something extinct about that...to connect takes quite a bit of work, and yet everything can be fast-tracked and easy, the mirror saves all, to live in his image...just put on a Happy face...blue paint for blue skies...like someone who called himself that while beating the women in the family.....no need to acknowledge where people have been...these matters of process, not in the mirror, at all...seeing is believing so be the scene today, on the rise...she can be your stepping stone...

And there is this ancient order...I mean, when you forget...they will know how to handle the business...no lifting of a finger required, the hands were on the levers the entire time...and the hell that emerges...I mean when you need to rise up and break out without following...just an image away from looking the part that props one up....when it's a lesson for the great pretenders all over again....I think we can question these promotions for incessant happiness, no? I think we can remember. Who would be at the helm of all of this...what was the experience?  Do we even care?  I mean, when you can be on the rise...the table is set, just for you..It's gotta feel great to be reminded of the ancient hell from which you emerged...

Am I fighting for myself? Fire with Fire, not Fire, could portray these matters....and away we go...gone with the wind...like a candle, no?

And I return back to that childhood, and that need for my treatments. A lot of smiles. No interaction. Hugs while pulling the hair. Oh, and let's not forget the sister figure introducing my nieces to me for the second, maybe third time, taking an innocent trip to Chik-Fil-A, that just so happens to involve a strategic underhanded photo op because you know, she's the sister figure, even though we have no relationship! How lovely!! Even upon adulthood, and considering the tradition of easy-to-do matters under the table and spinning the intelligence. I am guaranteed to lose...I'm the granual for the box, sand, no?  The lost cost, and no one out there, at least on the map, to help me out...It's like an ancient tradition...when this world offers an underhanded network the opportunity to win...by all means... Who am I to you?  My tendencies? My rigor? You have the mirror, so by all means be the alpha and omega. Shine in the way that you shine. I want no part. I will take on a different relation, something that doesn't aim to shine in a family portrait. And this is a true story, to be held by my grandfather, both of us unenthused for the family picture day, both with sad cat faces, loving each other, while the family smiles. I think of my brother-in-law experiencing the loving wifey aiming to catch him up into a money-laundering scheme, though the smiling face by design would never disclose....and the grandfather who seemed to be all caught up with the wits of a matriarch who just loved her Shakespeare when the money upon money upon money was never enough. To live among this type of day. A niece, who I observe, upon a photo, unenthused to have their picture taken...I wonder?  I mean, when everyone on the map is so much smarter...Eye Queue. When the win establishes the needed terms that the winner can't even follow....SAND BOX, oh my! You got me winners. You got me entirely...SMILE. Let this joke be on me, not you, of course, like a kingdom for a horse! She doesn't exist at all, does she? And the way you know, how could you possibly know? Get it? No. I know, you know. At a loss?  I tell you what, in the world of ITAL-CAP-ISM, by some albums...Drab Majesty...a good start....you know these matters, not in the mirror, and yet you need the mirror. It's not hate, it's just this need, considering what happened, the ancient hell and what it means to forget...it's never okay...Drop the smiles, please...Put in the effort, please. But, in the effort to please...oh these winners...larger than life...the bravery that spells fear...we get you! Take our blood today...
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