Sometimes I think the only art left for us is slowly peeling the label off a beer bottle while somebody tells you about a dream they had.

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Grinding, churning - the sweetest ever noise
Decode me into their non-communication
A soundtrack to my failure,
one syllable, one vowel

I.

A stagnant flow of endings. Un-time unbound.
Merging to form the multi-none
A sickly dance of matter, malignantly benign.
Greeting the chasm - unbearable, sublime

Meshuggah. Dehumanization. Catch Thirtythree.

(Source: anotherword)

3 months ago Notes: 9
Tagged: um i love this
  1. sea-chelle reblogged this from anotherword and added:
    Grinding, churning - the sweetest ever noise Decode me into their non-communication A soundtrack to my failure, one...
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