19/30 - I'm Not Dead Yet

April 30/30

19/30

I’m not dead yet, so yes, I’m going through a stage. The twin suns that orbit my heart are laughing at the effort it takes to congeal the eye of a dim sum breakfast. I want to dance in your coffin. I want to surf on the dining room table of your heart. I want your brain in my mouth and every DVD you’ve ever cried over to be lodged in the wall of my summer cabin’s flaking shingle tiles. You are the plastic bag that makes sunglasses look good. I am the wary test answers on the bathroom floor. I haven’t seen a magical creature like you in years.

It’s not that my pipes aren’t clean. It’s not that my structure doesn’t yearn for scaffolding. It’s more like the handlebar moustache sprouting out from my liver is no longer villainous. I haven’t lifted a car in a long time but I no longer see the need to. I am a loaf of bread. I am a pint on a nice day. I’m a swimming pool on vacation. I’m the friendly country on tour through a mean one. I’m a tall gin in the hands of a weather-beaten old woman. I want all of your confessions so that I can burn them up near the river. There are no altars here. There are only plain meanings and clear smiles.

I do love the curve of a nice ass. Render my Elvis useless. Tell my measuring tape that shelves are a thing of the past. I want this lack of gravity to persist. Watch me do a lap up a waterfall. I’m a turnaround dog stuck in a spacesuit with no rope trick to call home. It’s a waterslide of a roller coaster of a sine curve on a graph. It’s not tennis so much as curtain wrangling.



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20/30 - Luminopticon

April 30/30

20/30


The luminopticon opened up to me and I saw for the first time what kind of colours were available throughout known space.

The whole book was arranged in a spectrum to give us paint-sample glimpses of each colour with write ups of origins and high-instance areas. As a human, I was only able to see 1/65th of the books colours samples. The ones I could see just showed up a blank paper.

Colours are vibrations. You’re all familiar with the ones we all can see but I was intrigued by the ones I had never even conceived of.

There was fast black. A black that only exists in time as it goes backwards, thrown off by the other colours degrading in reverse. There was super red, a violet pulse that pushes the universe to the side inch by inch. Its origins are a mystery to us all. Aside from the incremental pushing, it appears to be benign.

There’s vermile, craston, marenko, yusanite, crightwhittle, harnge, bake-take, nornpatch, underblue, west-wrannit, forkbastion, and yellowess.

There’s tarktannon, half-hatch, reenat, questarkle, gingerpuce, necrishade, tangledance, shimeer, gratuiton, and fingernoose.

There’s endershade, painbow, thunderpink, gamer’s grindle, heistwine, blacktackle and moose rust.

There’s wronglark, stayshare, southudder, freel, blounders, stackjackets, maddertin, and ladient.

Some have names that I can’t even see. The book is thick and naturally, it glows in the dark. I can only read it with glasses that filter out the colours that will drive me insane even though my conscious mind can’t perceive them. This book is a prison/zoo for the seventeen types of light that are sentient. The book needs to exist for all time so therefore it cannot be destroyed. It is logically anchored in eternity, one of seven such known objects.

I have been given a chance to study it and soon I will have mastered what limited capability I have. Then I will become a light weaver, the only human one this generation.




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21/30 - No Sex

April 30/30

21/30

Once the tangle of sex as an ultimate state is no longer the stamp that fuels your propellers, an entire system of planets open up, new worlds and relationship no longer defined by shades of procreative drives. Friendships untainted by the push and pull of attraction. It’s all a matter of degrees, of course.

I think it was Plato who walked into a summer market at the age of 80, fresh youths on all sides buying food, and he felt nothing for them. Rumps, boobs, abs, legs, eyes, none of it worked on him anymore. He was sexless. Legend has it that he fell to his knees and said “I’m free! I’m free!”

For some this happens earlier. For some, it’s a lifelong state. To know, like, befriend, and/or conversely, to hate, despise and dislike people for reasons that have nothing to do with the attractiveness of their appearance is a strange experience.

One I welcome.



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22/30 - Strength

April 30/30

22/30

Strength has nothing to do with love or hate. There are loving cowards and evil cowards. There are loving warriors and evil warriors. I’m not sure why, but this is a revelation to me. The fact that strength can exist separate from not only morality, but also love and hate. It makes strength into a tool, no more important than a fork or a hammer. It is a clothing, not a motivator. It is an aspect of nature, not a facet of reason.

It does not drive. But does it let us steer?



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23/30 - Rhubarb Patch

April 30/30

23/30

Gingers have a rhubarb patch
Brunettes have a thicket.
Blondes possess a flaxen thatch
So guys know where to stick it.

Brunettes have a licorice ruff
Blondes a golden ticket
Gingers have a copper tuft
So girls know where to lick it

Blondes display a honey crest
Gingers red wine wicket
Brunettes sport a charcoal tress
So everyone can flick it



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24/30 - Cupid

April 30/30

24/30

Cupid is a nationality. They are from Cupae. They are also known as Cupidians, Cupates and sometimes as the Cupish. Everyone from Cupae has the power of love. Cupid’s cuspids are the source of their power. They have seventeen hearts. It doesn’t leave a lot of room for other organs but Cupids don’t eat or breathe. Cupids can withstand many gee of force. They are quick. Cupids take their responsibilities very seriously.

Some say that Cupae was created and that cupids are creations. That they are not naturally occurring creatures. That is a matter of dispute.

They stay out of your vision. They only exist to spread love with all of the terrible carnage and beautiful happenings that brings.


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