seedling @nune@computerfairi.es

THREE LIL
CRUNCHY RED NOMS

gmornin,
*stumbles through getting upstairs*

did the dogs of war
keep you awake
with their howling?

*sigh*
me too.

@netkitty 🐞🌱🌼?

🎵ima tree
ima snek
ima flower onna mountaaaaiiiinnnnn
🎶

and the other side reached back

cascades of purple-green fractal-hands
dark light, hot black
reaching towards me, hands forming, my cheeks unwarming as they touched, both filled with intention and somehow, slack

from above they drooped down, perhaps some yellow around the edges, they did not seem to vanish in the light, yet became far less easy to observe, and as others had a perchent for bright light, no interaction with others has been observed

where to begin?

at the beginning of course.

at the beginning
a very good place to start

it began painfully
less mentioned there is better
misery thrives in retelling

and we cultivate other dreams

a small seed
thriving in need
no hint of the false horizon

yet

aware
that

thinking is important
too
you know

threads of connections around them
three'd eyes open wide

reaching towards the other side

why
though

?

please

no t t h i s wA
@
a
a
a
.
.
.

still here

still queer

still dying of fear

not a lot to say,
just very sleepy these days

communicating takes
much energy sometimes

your phone is just a computer
that won't ( can't? )
turn off
or stop listening
or stop watching

and we all keep voluntarily
plugging in the energy tether,
five times a day, eight days a week

this ritual of the connected times,
feeding our faceless boxen another USB of electric pixies,
trying to find connection over the wires

filtering inputs for meaningful patterns among the noise

the way is most lost
when
someone believes
that only they
have found it

pick the scab until it bleeds/find the shard caught underneath

pick away the faded crack
bones charred bright with skin laid back
arms akimbo/ribs are slack
sightless eyes and ears pulled back

ream the abcess
sew the gore
leave the drainings on the floor
scrape away and use no more

finding the heart of a thorn
finding the root of a tomb
finding the way from before

kinesthetic knowing

mom says portents are NOT good

woe is the lost and unfaithful in this hour
for they who believe them not are shattered
for we are in the hour of the broken

woe is the halfhearted. believer
who compromises their truth with things of dust

woe is the legion of mankind
for their hubris has wreaked untold damage
and their hearts lust for greater sins

when the seeds of false doubt
strew fire upon the brows of the faithful
will the sheep not at last be awakened?

okay, yes, but, when
the apocalypse
is upon us,

will we care?

then over long, ceaseless moments of nulland silence, fractured unsuddenly, and disparate snapshots, frames with measurably infinite gaps, became histories, then scenes, consecutive moments, motion, and finally sound.

returning the awareness too quickly to realspace can be a shockwave of overstimulation.

using the incense stick stub from last time to light the next one

#JustLittleWitchThings