I am just digging this song tonight,

Its the right vibe, capturing the mood I'm in...



I think it is the right background for tonight's thoughts.

I'm going to share the beginning to some short stories I've been working on... and I really just would like to know your thoughts, I imagine them being short stories in a collective of really strange works with great illustrations, kinda a homage to Shell Silverstein, well, any way, here ya go. Its a work of run-on sentences, you know, the best kind of sentence. We'll start with 3, I'll post more depending on the reception.
Lemme Know what you think.

The first one is called:

Underneath,

crouching in the shadows waits the beast, while rain falls, as static fuzzes on the tele, he bides his time, waiting, watching, inching ever closer, breathing intense, tightening his form for the upcoming demonstration of his might, the foretold lore that this menacing giant is now forever tied, click click click sounds his twitching anxious claw as the moment grows near and the young boy eating the giant lollipop will be no more, just wait till he goes to sleep. There are monsters under your bed.

Patches

She will be a spot of sainthood in the endless universe, I remember her rhythmically stroking the side of my head as it bounced on her lap in tune to the purple haze pouring and oozing itself out of the speakers onto the floor, filling up the room like smoke from our pipe,
she was much younger then, whimsical and catty, with a patch of gray beginning to take root, the kind of gray strand that lets you know she's been somewhere,
past the screeching of subway wheels, and the hustle of the street deals, over the oceans which fed the countless showers in tubs stained black in ports from Japan to Rio. The pictures in her mind, the stories burned in her lobes, shared through a whisper and a smoke, a snack at the table, a morsel of knowledge tossed towards the hungry, she doted heavily on us back then, amazed us with her spunk, all packed tightly now into her trunk at the end of the bed, in which she know lies listening to sweet jimmy, or maybe the stones, always waiting on a friend, we don't see much of them around here anymore.

Abelia ‘Kaleidoscope’

Surly midgets with heads full of lice wait in line to greet the king who carries in him the ruby life, while pragmatic blind orphans swim in the yard with suits of green and orange signifying their pending demise, only through understanding the power of the rubes can the flower bloom under the feet of the giraffe

and thats that. "it is what it is", as everyone seems to be saying these days...

Hey did you know its freak'n cold out?!!!
LISTEN TO THIS.... AMAZING version.