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a man and a bike

his back was killing him,  the road had evened out but he still carried those hills. rolling, like him, except you don't roll a bike. you push them, and that's what he did. the bike was a bad call but he didn't want to leave it to die. it may still be loved, but maybe not. the training wheels help, they allow independence without much risk. there are birds circling ahead, he holds his breath. the slime bubble farts. it is spread thin, it must have come from orbit. they do very well in space. they say a goldfish never stops growing, they are leviathan. kessler effected motor oil rain burns a planet bare over years, they concentrate into autonomous spills.  they become new problems.  they are omnivores with hundreds of mutations for novel food stores. singularity driven, it offers nothing in return, all that is consumed is completely destroyed.  anti matter jelly roombas from acid snot nebula hive hungers. he might need to run, not fast, just faster than molasses. it's...
Recent posts

scream

use ghostface as a curse tied to a place, and some people within it violence echoes on lashing waves the physical manifestations of murder there are rules and subversions a rule will save your life a subversion will try and kill you they turn into one another when used forever and ever in different shapes and sizes

wrestling time

i love professional wrestling violent dancers painting human, flawed glory names, dates each move, history loving spectacle and emotion lovely temporal collisions protective melees beauty brave athletisim time stamped collaboration hopeful passion and community flying screaming expression forever story art

Mogs Dungeon: Floor 2

time spews away from me in vast geysers, every second a smaller piece of the whole, fractions of fractions moving at the speed of thought and memory. vast halls of expierience, house baubles and curiosities, uncatalogued, they roll loose on the floor. deeper under the world stonework becomes oppurtunistic. smooth, rarely level, and often wet, moving quickly carries risks of noise and pain, the earths quiet treachery.  squeezes defy the stiff certainties of plate, they deny its passage without offerings of grease or oil.  encounter table: 1d8 stuckbeetle (oil beetle, stucckoil: apply to door to make it stuck, effective as iron spikes, works on metal joints)  2d4 sauna drake (crocodile, fire breath, flesh turns water to steam, leather retains the property)  3d4 g. vampire bat, 1in20 chance one is a vampire a possessed doll (wood golem, a demon locked in wooden curves of vicious strangesness. prefer lurking) 1d4 knight with 1d4 squire (veteran, normal human, zealots, he...

the future used to be a garden

myopic giants tear at the edges of the world, their vast gullets fed futures in quarters by pharaohs, doomsday rulers furnishing grand and lonesome tombs. kings ransoms transmuted into gilded chambers beneath paradise, consequence contingencies for the eventualities of exploitation.  better to bury billions than give up a cent. time bleeds from open wounds, paid for in pennies and examples in the name of hydratic growth and rotten dignity.  complicity is mandatory and airborne, do not acknowledge the stains, do not look back on the bones and keep your eyes on the dimming horizon. history is haunted, and ghosts grow restless when perceived. ice swells in cities, frigid hearts wield spears of bitter entitlements, cosplay commandos prescribed kevlar and rifles, some people burn the world around them to avoid bitter pills. worldviews locked in fish eyed perspectives that deny others humanity.  long winded martyrs serve the most powerful, while wearing toilet paper chains of o...

Mogs Dungeon: Floor 1

i have been working in the realm of matter,  i tire of binaries and light foggy visions of a realm under the world, where stone hewn demons lure the bold and the brazen. fire burns green and smells of hot metal, gold bleeds out of the earth in ringing agony, it calls to violent men and monsters. Entrance: a head hewn from stone speaks suddenly: ‘Adventuresome who pass my tests,  find greatest wealth in deepest depths,  through horrors toil, but fear not death,  what's thine is mine, save thy last breath.’ doors must be conquered, a Turn at a time, the Dungeon denies passage whenever possible. copper keys open locks and doors in seconds, they change the position of portcullises for a Turn keys disintigrate into copper dust when used (50cp) chambers stolen from many times and places, logic cobbled together by a being without limitation, riches and danger in equal measure the tunnels breathe, and lines are drawn six forces fighting, their desires shape spacetime demonic...

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a fungus grows in my brain.  it is in love with me.  i do not know if i love it back.  it coos at my bones while i visit the dreaming, a wonderful, seductive place, and my creaking bones are alive and pulsing. defiant to the end of the world. of their world. of my world. there is life in moments, it ripples through a sea of time, of change, of permanent impermanence.  the odds were in my favor, and still i cannot win, through worlds but always endings, a smoke trail of cosmic cinders blinds me to the past. such vastness is not easily accessed, it must be traveled to over days and months and milliseconds. one more year, perhaps a few thousand more, i do not know, times tolerance is diminished. the sea rages, and this skeletal vessal creaks and moans. calcium is resiliant and beautiful and timeless oh godess thee, who carries pain, let me lighten thy load, for i am able, and i am willing, and let me feel while it can be done, and though joy is often out of reach, time ...