Stories

And crocodiles too

Get inside for a coffee

Lukewarm ivory pool

The kids play with lasers

Until the lions den's hush

We skip across trapdoors

Cameras trace every touch

We've seen the northpole

Car chases 'till clutch

We met playing tennis

I think we courted enough

Strange ways, can't reform 'em

No glitter, no glue

Every hero needs a villian

But lovers needed too

I've been uneasy seeing messages

From strange numbered contacts

But world domination

Is acquired taste I ain't object

So when your honour student son

Liked my chess princesses

I settled in these differences

Had a share of megalomaniacs

But you were the first brainiac

I served the papers to my majesty

In the middle of that covert op in the philippines

Where you destroyed that drug ring

The lack of narcotics in that line of work sure is something!

I felt safe

You let your mask down and lend it as a toy to my offspring

Any last words before we open up these cufflinks?

''I'm nervous''

Kissing down your stretch marks

Laying eyes on your savanna

You say you would love to open up these love handles like they were packages from santa

And there's a mole

I say it's a beauty spot

As you grab your robe

Red lights flashing

Goons rushing to the data centre

When you laid awake, in a room that looked foreign.

Duvets tucked behind your head, an animal carrying offspring.

Legless whispers,

thump, thump, thump.

In waves that not carry.

In noise that shreek color;

Static, StAtic STATIC**#€π

From now on we never stick to names

We only stick to code

Samurai movies 'till my blood geysers erorde

Not free of sin, no muscles on these throws

Yet casting all these woes

Bambo in the abdomen

Tiger in the cage, exit strategy change

You saved my life and now want to play it down like childs play

It's that sedative that stung

Piercing silence, Memoria, Apichatpong

The faucet facing spider, consumed by her hatchlings

I would have dropped dead before I loosen these strings

I painted charcoal paintings, you keept messing with fairy dusts

Burned the rotten flesh away, but now I realize what part I was.

Searching for Friends On A Dating App

Joining A Book Club To Find Friends To Do Anything But With

Treating Yourself With Harmful Ingredients

Join Self Help Groups And Don't Talk A Word.

To reach out is a step on many a ladder. 

It takes recources. It can be counterintuitive.

Stranded in a hole in the ground, you would not find me passively observing the person using their teeth to shape the wooden cutlery into a rung.

Kurt Tallert said "I will transform into a ladder and climb up myself".

I say it was always about being the ladder, never to climb out of the hole.

A foxhole is a home.

Domesticated paws on vinyl flooring. Trained to sit at a desk for 8 hours.

Peeing on random spots on the carpet. It just shouldn't be mine.

Throwing away YOUR books. Rallying in MY street.

Defiant.

Two dots. On a wall.

I don't think they are the same species.

One comma, two commas, blurry coma, warm bath.

One is not alive, I think.

Nothing can be this still for so long.

The other is approaching it, prancing, or is there friendship between dots?

Is it in agony, twitching? Is it jumping for joy of seeing their favorite dark spot in a world full of peril?

Is it naturally following unconscious motor functions and hasn't realized their fate yet?

Is it dawning on the other dot?

In humans, the signal from our optical nerves passes a section that's responsible for emotions before hitting the back of our skull where the brain is "seeing" the image. 

It's why you can sense someone is looking at you before you apperently see it. 

Why blind people can be scared from an image.

Or is it just 

Two dots. On a wall.

Humans pack bond with everything. I'll certainly do. Although I have stopped pack bonding with everyone. Took years for it to register.

The living dot never touches the dead dot. 

It minds the gap.

Surely it can't be hunting then. 

Maybe it can't even hunt.

Two dots. On a Wall.

Maybe it never even saw the other dot. Or never registered it. Humans can find a pattern in everything. From up close, I'm certainly not a dot, but human. Strange to write it out.

The living dot could just be orbiting the dead one.

Chaotic. Observing.

Neverminding the other.

Lovely observing.

Seing 20.000 flashlights in a dark forrest, all ilumating the faces of your heroes, loved ones, friends, friendly associates, homies.

Getting out of the bath, I can inspect the two dots closer.

The dead one disappeared. Maybe it was not there, maybe it was woodship wallpaper, being made dead from dramatic lighting.

The other is a miniscule spider.

Happy.

Whole life living in a test tube.

Whole life unsure if it's a chinese room.

For all grey's matter; it's a done deal, 28 seasons of anatomy.

"All life is pond fish in puddles"

Well, maybe that's mammoth hunt, my dear Barney Rubble.