Things which you have no control over...
You can't do anything about it!
You can see this big great storm coming towards you...
You have to time it just right.
When to make a run for shelter you mean?
I knew you'd understand.
Sampled
90s Moomin Anime, ep 5 i believe
Fucking Boyfriend by the bird and the bee
Harpy Hare by Yaelokre
writing, of which the title of the post relates to but not necessarily the music
Circular reasoning doesn't have to make sense to you to still be entertaining
Tendrils crawl from the earth without sin and yet upon our flesh they leave claw marks, sinews dragged and torn.
Hollistic approaches don't denote much except the early tale of a woman who fell from the high rise building gates in the summer of November 27. She doesn't intend to be a go-getter and yet the punchline is that she is never not that.
A glass half full of delusion, the moon considers a drink, the dew glistening - on its own already a treat, let alone the construction of the rest of the world solely for this moment.
It is truly the moment of the moment that never leaves one's mind and life without the utmost attention to detail, negative imagery like a photograph in the sea.
But who did it? What about the rest of it?
Exactly so, the conclusion only serves to converse wretchedly and yet one can't help but give it the benefit of the doubt as it smiles so sweetly, harmlessly.
Contribution to the cause is considered faux pax you fucking moron can't you behave for just once? Ultimately no one said anything about your hair so you only have yourself to blame if you want to blame someone that is. The party continues, its curtains drawn open to the bottom of the heart.
Standing around like stalks in a field, barren save for the secrets roaming in the moonlight, never spoken of save for in whispers folding like ribbons over the years of distant small talk.
When a mistake is a mistake one must do... Something.
Colors mismatching is a soothing choice as are words that exist solely to paint an abstract picture. Art, art.
An altar, the candles, white, like a dream, too structured just a bit too structured to feel natural, it is reality that was chosen down to the angle. So when you see the box why wouldn't you attempt to play with it?
Eternity yawns. Does it know how many fear it? Does it care? The answer to that reflects more heavily upon the view of the answerer than it does upon the subjects of the monarch idly observing a peach fall from the branch outside the window, like an old woman's knobbled hand fumbling.
It is the pillar, the pillars, who stand lonely in the desert, the night sky rippling out reds, blues and blacks above.
Who shall say what they recall of their lover's touch? Who shall remember in their stead the secrets and melodies only extant when their puzzle pieces locked lovingly in place?
Maintaining history acts as a hangar, creating a full reality within another reality, intrinsically requiring information to be sorted in priority a priori in the process of the future tense. Destruction is the description of a thousand different choices, like thread, weaving and fraying.
What a boss fight! His arms sway to the music and no one questions anything.