Storystyling : Unsmoked Books (1 / 2)

Hybrid Horizon : Trees within Trees

There is a character in the story named three. The character is the way of getting to know the nodes holding the structure of the story. Nodes like a habitas of the most reclusive of dwellers of spaces carved in stone. Nodes like noisy communicational tunnels turned green communication channel. Noise of rotting foliage synthesizing molten mould out of mud, crystallizing the compound into the message sent from the velvety surface of petals. Spreading along the airy passageways : invisible carriers / unthinkable transmission / flow unheard of.

Hey, did you say “fuck off”?

i like time on your face. / because it speaks of the present. / freckles of time like maps drawn by the flow in the hour glass. / they speak of the intersection of the time axes.

Your linguistic sense of vocabularized phantasmagoria is but a petalized metaphor dreaming of its own transformation into an oneiric scenery of mafotherphunkie renegade pixilation.

i like time on your face. / because it weaves wierd tales of the past redeemed and the future reimagined. / because it speaks of the present.

Your idea of imagination is an antibabylonian version of an o’clock used as a watch epitomizing digitized hands pointing at the quarrel between the alternating arabic and roman numerals.

i like time on your face. / because it’s all about memory. / and it is not.

Wow to u, number-named stories. All time style cyborg / shadow – behave for fuck sake!

Verily.

Like smooth movements within the hour glass drawing maps. Remapping distorted messages. Chorus in the memory of a crystal dispersal. Feedback through the tunnels of delusions. Sound as heavy as the thickest spider web wrapping dry branches with the oblivion of ages. Ghosttown in a forest. Wasteland in the wind’s dream of the city. Trees within trees. Amber drenched web. Hybrid clock face : hourglass meets sundial in the habitat carved in the rock. The trickiness of the sticky web as it is being transfigured into cotton candy. Sweetness.

i like time on your face. / because it speaks of something i found in your eyes.

i like time on your face. / because it speaks of insularity in the midst of multitudes, river of gratitude, silence as the horizon glimmering above the flickering ocean.

i like time on your face. / because it speaks of the present.