Storystyling : Cityface (three / foYr)

like phunk

The everyday ate the nocturnal. No generalizations are possible. No depth can surface. Surface where? When it’s useless. When it’s invaluable. When the everyday ate the nocturnal.

--angularity at its finest.

--rajt on.

 / : like phunk.

--thou look like someone whose predecessors were sylvan souls.

--i am, aren’t я.

 / : like phunk.

i don’t know why the poetics of the remix sometimes sounds like the smile of the cosmic ocean.

dark corridor divided from the rest of the world by thick walls of waterfalls. dark corridor filled with whirlpools of air embalmed with a wrap made of leaves. its shivering edges are  the hymn of the storm. its petiole like the sharpest of spikes. its blade the softest velvety cushion for the cyclone kiss.

i don’t know why it sometimes colors my whisper in sparkling green.

indigo carpet flashes a golden frown of netted embroidery. mirrorstylingly, the rhizome rooting the raging wildness blinks an etherized forest of sparks. all being palephotonized now.

As it is, the waterfall walls acquire a weird appearance of leaking tubular whitishness. As they are, tumultuous ink crust ablaze with flooding milkfish sensation. As it is, anchor-rhizome titillating with myriad nanooscillations. as all is being palephotonized now.

i don’t know why sometimes everything looks like its own mirror image.

leaf melting, leaf spreading. its veins filigree embroidery mapping the space hosting an armory of utensils, objects…gadgets. a gigantic gadget bathed in an oceanic-forestry spark. melting spark leaking over the colossal surface, rivers of whiteness hissing numberless simultaneous looks into the shielding environment.

i don’t know why it looks at me with the smile i know.

static fills the space held by grandiose pillars. static carried on the occasional stirs of the air domineering the tablecloth that hacked the fragmentation of the current scattered across the room within separate monitors on separate devices. knots of ones & zeros transpositioned into the content hosted by the sovereign node.  all being palephotonized now.

The face of the room mirrored in the all-encompassing liquid tablecloth. Floods of static mirrored in the air quietly shielding the stately mafotherphunkie castle.

i don’t know why i think the poetics of the remix is sometimes colored in the nuance i know.

why it’s called the poetics of the remix.

--hey, thou--oine kleine--howz doth u knowest that tho know not?

--hey, thou--manners first for fuck sake--getafuckoutahere.

 / : like phunk.

kessenem / verily / pleazy.