Last night in the Old Neighborhood.

Her nails onto the finger tips.
Her nails. Her finger tips.

Her nails getting into the neck's skin.
Her nails. My neck's skin.

*Do I seem to be wounded?
Kind of.

*Do I look angry?
I don't think so.

>It's such a messy situation, baby.
>You trying to kill me whilst I'm trying to help.

Screams all over around.
Some of them say I'm right.
Some of them say she is.
I agree with no one.

*Am I bleeding or dying or something I should get worried about?
Not at all.
*Am I still thinking about how very fucked up she is lately that she actually can't trust anybody in first term because she made it this way?
  A bit. But it's such a paternalistic behaviour the one that you've developed towards her.
I mean that you don't have to take care of her any longer and you know it but it's taking a long time for you to accept this.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

When you realize you've done everything you could.
When you notice that every action just increased disorder.
When you remember this is what they taught you about entropy.
Then, you stop taking part.
Stop getting involved.
And you start having fun.

This is what Second Law of Thermodynamics Party is about.

Leviathan

We believe in progress self-defined

We keep everyone running

We chase the dead gods

We are alone and all that matters

Money is the only community you are allowed to enjoy

We rape the whole and reach for parts and never admit,

its interconnectedness

its complexity beyond our grasp

We continue no longer for living gods

No longer for the marketplace

No longer for the System

& no longer do we continue for the sake of itself
We continue this war against all

Because we can see no way back amongst the blasted
ruined
landscape that we left

the Roach

With Great Power comes...

...great debt

the Roach does not play nice.

rugose skin is better than cancer

teeth through my fingers i've just reached the botton of my throat.
the feeling is. the feeling is. the feeling is.
like rough.

In space.

Out there, she says, it rains and the lightnings are like the flashes of the photographies that God takes. I wonder what the thunders are.

Surely it's God complaining at himself about the photo, but from so far away that we can't understand a damn word, says he. 

Both are naked and have just bathed the other one in sweat. They interlace their feet and at this moment nothing, except for all the rain, the lightnings, the thunders and God who is trying to take these panoramic views of everything what happens in the world, nothing matters.

Both, he and she knows that once she come back home, she'll try to clean it out the lumocolor pen ink fastly. Who cares. Right now he could paint her whole body and she wouldn't complain.

Bernard.

There is a place in Space where we go when we can't go anywhere else.
In this place, everything is like moldable plasticine.
Something you shape to your will.
And bodies turn to different colors according to their mood.

Bernard is one of the inhabitants of this place.
Every day he prepares himself to fight.
He puts on his chain mail and fits into his boots.
He takes the sword.
He becomes aware.
And goes to fight.

His aim is to kill the worst of his greatest enemies.
There is nobody who exceeds this one in cruelty or snares.
Nobody who could damage Bernard more than this one.

So every day Bernard prepares himself for the combat.
He puts on his chain mail and fits into his boots.
He takes the sword and becomes aware.
And he always ends up by cutting his own head off.

Nobody knows if by mistake.
Nobody knows if by need.

The forest.

I remember the forest. The tranquility.

You could spend a whole hour just staring at the lake. Maybe it sounds stupid to you. Maybe it seems like wasting time. But you didn't need anything more.

I felt protected in all that beauty. Like a lost son coming back home.

introduction: timeLESS

i am timeless

running, pressing bare feet into soft earth

reaching just beyond the tip of my extended fingers

just slightly out of view

and im gone

the man next to me he thinks nothing of it. He sees me slowly sorting out the mail. He hears no sound coming from my lips and drifts so very far away.

-me in the middle

----

Sometimes i write things down. Thinking we can be understood. But really we should just find a quiet place to sit and shut up for a while.

Sometimes i smile. But i feel ashamed because my teeth are falling out of my mouth.

Sometimes i get angry. Because too much strings got pulled.

Sometimes i dance. but rarely in the open.

Sometimes im a good friend. But find it hard to show.

Sometimes i feel timeless. and I do not exist. in a good way.

-----

Now please excuse me while i'm going to shut down again...

An introduction.

This is an introduction. It's about me. One of those kids. 

My name is Guy. Guy the Good. 
I draw and write some stuff just because. Otherwise I would explode, I think.
And somehow I need to share all these things that I draw and write just because. Otherwise I would probably explode too. I like explanations and meteors. I hope to visit Colorado some day.

This is my introduction. 
It's about me.
If you want to know about my pals, well. 
Just ask them.

Good morning, nice people.

We are the ones cooking for you.
The ones who put over the table these products we've made knowing that none of them is better than the others.
That everyone of them is excellent because we prepared it with the greatest love and dedication ever.

We are those good boys and girls.
Those good boys and girls making cakes and cookies.