Lighthouse Artistry ®

† R Sometimes, the street lamps are like bar chords, and the moon plucks the long exposure.

Something threw a crystal at the window, and told em to stay away from the windows.

I wake up today, and the first word are,“I want this body.”

I think the reptilians are involved. Like for real, for real.

There are factions.

An elephant, a frog, and a few cats were drawing lines in the sky.

Is chicken rice a Manchurian candidacy catalyzer?

There is a reflection right across my apartment, of Lord Sivan upon the balcony door. Perhaps, it is the anthropomorphism of wants.

When a cobra bathes in milk, the milk becomes atonic. – Seen with Hermetic eyes.

A piano wire, a dagger and the assassination of the architecture of Atlasian archetypes.

† R It's the roti prata of institutionalisation that turns an idealist into a, “Hmmmph, what's that again?” person.