S1LH0V3TT3S 0F 1NDVSTRY...

silhouettes of industry

casting ominous shadows

over collective future

SONG OF THE DAY: High 'n Dry

county fair cocaine mirrors

quiet riot pyromania

kill ‘em all let god sort ‘em out t-shirt

young & ignorant dreaming of a carney life

escaping the inescapable

thirty years later here I sit

still not dead, I guess alive

but damn if it ain’t boring af most days

34CH S1MPL3 H0M3 Y0V P4SS BY...

each simple home you pass by

full of real lives exploding

with life-or-death emotion

1NDVSTR14L PL4NTS SPR0VT1NG...

industrial plants sprouting

along riverbanks, smoky

clusters of man's faux progress

SONG OF THE DAY: Mary Jane

So hey, I took some weed gummies while I was out west last fall, and I’ll be honest I don’t even like getting high like that any more. My mind races too much and I just turn into metaphysical fetal position thought swirls which don’t stop, not even bad just constant, like a washing machine stuck on super spin cycle and it’s just spinning and spinning and spinning and fuck man, I’m constantly busy where there’s no down time. I don’t want to spin harder. They even told me the one kind was great for anxiety but it’s not even anxiety just constant brain/mind crunch of the demands of self-expression (which I never have enough time to do all the shit I want to work on) and obligations (fuckin’ real life is an asshole) and then to have mind spinning super fast while body is in bumble bumble mode, it’s more like torture than joy. Give me the fog, the deep heavenly grandmother quilted fog that wraps around your whole body and shuts down all sensation of pain and frustration and feels like you were reborn in clouds, floating on the couch, watching South American futbol, hoping for a riot that inadvertently triggers global order collapse.

W4RN1NG - F0R Y0VR S4F3TY TH1S...

"WARNING - for your safety this

area may be under

video surveillance" signs

ST00D 4T H3R W1ND0W 34CH D4Y...

stood at her window each day,

praying for her outlaw prince

of diamonds to return safe

S0VTHS1D3 V1RG1N14 B4CK R04DS...

Southside Virginia back roads -

red bricks hewn from tobacco

profits, now gone back to seed

SONG OF THE DAY: Amherst Station

More happy nihilism from the Griselda Crew. We are all for the most part doomed, so might as well enjoy the ride.

4N 1M4G1N3D CH4R4CT3R...

an imagined character

born from junk store bargain bin,

because toys have unreal lives

SONG OF THE DAY: Death Wish

Death Wish 69, starring Charles Monsoon, mild-mannered man crushed to metaphysical death beneath the weight of the world straddling his face and not recognizing his safe word of “fuck”.

N4K3D 1N TH3 W00DS 4G41N...

naked in the woods again,

laying on the ground, looking

at sun, hoping for release

W0RK3RS M3CH4N1Z3D 1NT0...

workers mechanized into

oblivion before they

could demand their proper share

SONG OF THE DAY: Wait a Minute

Love too listen to the old school soul on the slow weekend where attempts to regain breath in relentless bullshit world have brief windows to happen. Love too cut on the red light at night and fill the air with passionate stank. Love too wake up Sunday morning, hook up the turkey sausage and over lounger eggs, and keep it slow as lincoln continental plate tectonic drift for as long as possible, before the bullshit world starts bloop blooping at you first thing in the morning once again. Fuck work fuck cops fuck politics fuck walls fuck borders salaam.