tsk tsk brrrrraaaaaaoooOtskOOOOoo!! tsk
I was walking around making the lion roar, when the sounds I need started coming to me...meditating, warming itself upon the cushion of the electric bulb sun in the airconditioned virtuality of 304 was a giant fly!
I have the scratch sound in many levels now. The only thing I need now is simultaneity of two instruments and if you look to the right, it seems like an interesting ensemble, yes - this is apparently what mine (and everyone else's) larynx-sharynx lux-like.
An insect warmeth the mouth of the shower, and it also moves depending on the temperature of the spout. It likes the heat. Will global warming lead to the Biblical starlings coming in like black suns from Jatinga? There is a smaller House-fly on my fl00te!! w00te! A dark whisper comes from the past of Superman:
Beware of yourself, Fadereu. There is no difference between the nice man and the monster. The Pharoah is a slave of the sun.
On this day I take heed of elders who have come before me and seen this movement:
I have the scratch sound in many levels now. The only thing I need now is simultaneity of two instruments and if you look to the right, it seems like an interesting ensemble, yes - this is apparently what mine (and everyone else's) larynx-sharynx lux-like.
An insect warmeth the mouth of the shower, and it also moves depending on the temperature of the spout. It likes the heat. Will global warming lead to the Biblical starlings coming in like black suns from Jatinga? There is a smaller House-fly on my fl00te!! w00te! A dark whisper comes from the past of Superman:
So scheiden sich die Falschen von den Echten
Ich greife in das Fibelnest hinein
Und gebe dann den Guten und Gerechten
Mit meiner Formel Segen und Gedeihn.
And all who are full of impudence during the day
Are made small by the magic formula!
They draw shining steel - but instead of going into combat,
They solidify into stalagmites.
Beware of yourself, Fadereu. There is no difference between the nice man and the monster. The Pharoah is a slave of the sun.
On this day I take heed of elders who have come before me and seen this movement:
As the days passed, I no longer paid much attention to the internal play-by-play, and my inner sports-caster gradually faded like the sound of a transistor radio carried away down the beach. Cresting into one particular heartbeat one particular afternoon, I felt myself expand and dissolve into a spacious and enormous web of interdependence. There was no longer a world "out there" that sent me information that I processed "in here." Events simply occurred within a shimmering and bountiful field of lazy and luxurious becoming. A stomach rumble, a bird call, a flash of intense warmth in a knee, a warm breeze -- they were like notes in an atmospheric symphony, organically related but freed from the linear rule of melody or the steady beat of clocktime.- Erik Davis, Meditating in Sensurround