Saturday, March 17, 2012


sydney rainfall, grey skull castle and the masters of doom eat their coco pops. i'm fine, dealing with strange police inquiries, an enemy has conspired but the plan is falling apart, i am protected by various charms and spells, the poor enemy is subjected to annihilation and corruption while i flick through a newspaper and monitor the radars, various bleeps and glitches avoided like a primitive game of space invaders. 
pure static overkill, the space between encounters i stumble into nude town for coffee with some pirates and buccaneers but i have a wound that needs attention, so i slip away while they engage in rum and seven kinds of debauchery. 
home for pizza and some internal combustion, i burn away the pain with fire voodoo, fall into a steady stream of rem and flickering echos of tomorrow call me. various text messages penetrate, updated data streams, the affections of mysterious maidens i met along the way but i'm in the dark, my hand on auto pilot reaches out for the phone, somewhere it's close but veiled in darkness, sleep drowns me and in the morning i see the stream of missed calls and messages. 

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