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"How was your weekend? "

"My weekend? …
Well, I tore through caves swamped in drowning blood and was made a coast by wicked seashells coated in their own liquid- barbaric simplicity drifted with the echoes of must that each heel kissed, awakening the beast of all apertures…the great red grape of the moons! For the only tools of man are his body and mind- they are not him! With the relinquishment of tools, I was able to craft the shape of my heart, how the sea wind is my cradle, I daren't touch with my hands -or thoughts- for the breathing ruby would choke in crumbling winds of graphite- and the endeavour would be a lifetime recital. I visited the abyss in the pupils of my eyes and saw only light in the darkness, I questioned all things standing and praised all things sitting- my fleet of ships comprised of soluble minerals were stained in iron and all rusted within a second- for the sea is blue before a gasp- and with bright ivory crystals and scenes of ice, I reformed the structure of my brain. It's as sturdy as each liquid and as weak as the solids upon Earth's cusp. I was bored with sight so I choked upon consciousness, becoming walking plants and trees- burning in sync with the sway of ubiquitous waves of invisibility (not then!) . Within the hours of the night, grapes became wine and all ice melted; birthing an infant Sun, carrying with it all light, futures and the rays of realisation- for it woke me, and as each day, I woke upon the pinnacle of my dream. My child, my Sun, spoke the words "every second you must sleep in the dream of your sleepless dreams for that is where they shall be lived, and live, and this is where you live now". And the history of nature and the future of man was brought to me, blinding, in the form of modest darkness- under such largesses I found my dream in the form of love - on which I intend to live.
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