Embryonic amid devastation.

What? Where’s that? My life, right? Right! Fuck me.
Destroy the satisfactory rejuvenations and try to find a glimpse of a smile. For real, I see them everywhere. I wonder whether someone specific told or not, whether the ‘I’ or the ‘Us’ felt pity. I could, and I would like to practice as illuminist, meanwhile vomiting on the social extroverted usage of others knowledge.

Clumsy and childish for a silent cost. *whisper* call it nothing, apparently acceptable. But tell nothing, makes it something, doesn’t it? Why whisper?

*starts screaming*

“You turned the sound down? Then it’s artificial, I take it?”
“Not at all” the man said, “That’s natural sound, that is.”
“But how do you turn down natural sound?” I asked.
“Strictly speaking, I don’t turn it down,” the man replied. “I take it out” -Murakami

Wider perspective.
I want reality thrown in my face. I want reality in other people’s face. Preferably with a touch or a massive thrive of creativity. It could be pictures or insane constellations of words. It could be me acting in a common social situation without someone’s knowledge. People do that every day. Whether you do it nicely is a matter of when and how, and with whose knowledge of what, and your knowledge of whom or what.
Sea turtles lay their eggs nighttime and use the natural light from the Milky Way above the sea to find their way back home where they belong. Human illuminated pollution of the beaches worldwide sometimes hit the turtle hard when they have no what’s so ever clue where to go. Sometimes they shuffle the wrong directions. Sometimes a sea turtle die just because we put a million light bulbs in the middle of their perception of the world. And we complain about wolf killing sheep. Things like this need to be creatively presented, for people to care.

Sometimes I want reality plain and simple. Sometimes I want honesty plain and simple from those who act their reality for the cost of others.

Over and out Colonel.