1. Re-returning 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3cVH1n68WL
Back we are we are back back to the basics beginning to be basic what has changed nothing has changed same as ever ever was what else is new I had finished returned something left undonesome verb left undistilled not yet quite drunk something undiscovered something to be rediscovered so it reasoned so it returned back to the baseline back to the frontier of where? Here. I had left but return something to be found something I didn’t see didn’t know before couldn’t know, had no way of knowing something which could only be seen in the present moment something of a colour I didn’t understand at that time something which had yet to aquire meaning something hidden within or hidden without on another train like before. not drunk like before, nor even slightly tipsy, future uncertain present unknown everything fraying slightly past my fingertips just the vague outlinessome calling, calling for the worst parts of the self to come out something begging for the drunk to become drunk again and the insomniac to stay awake some more and the neurotic to think a little longer. So here we are back again the platform is frayed all around us where we stand I wish to stand still just for a moment to stare around and find something new to believe in to carry me forward everything up to this point has gone rotten and turned now stale all is lost to me and dead to the fingers which used to move as powerful pistons, sugaring levers. Where do the hands that twitch go where do all the blood vessels go what happens to all of the beats which the heart hasn’t had yet? twitching muscles deflate and now dream dream dream dreammm I dreamed that we were cast in a theatre play and we were various parts of a church, and the director, who I think was A led us around the church which we were playing. Or maybe the director was T. The parts of the church weren’t very happy with the actors cast to play them. I remember the arches grumbling that K and A2 were playing them. And we went outside and there was fog and the marshy outside grumbled in at us as we knew that if we walked too far out into the distance, we too would be swallowed up by the oncroaching bog like a womb or an asshole.
2. Smell roses 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxb1M7hyQnE
Waking up I was holding bear and thinking of my boyfriend. So far I’ve crossed, from sad and drunk staring in a mirror and holding up the flaps that my hormone supplements called tits feeling the cold phone screen, to try and find something warm beneath and finding nothing, reaching hands through the glass and seeing how far I could stretch before being blinded by the blood you fall so far you find new distances where new reaches of how low you can sink the lowest in 2021 gradually became the highest point which I wanted to reach, life is greying every year I feel less and less sobreity didn’t give me back my emotions it woke me up to the realisation that I have none left now I look into the mirror and do my makeup out of inertia, if I don’t do it, not much changes. You wake up in bed in the middle of the night. Head is beehive. You straddle the distance to the bathroom. This is an old house, this is a different room. It calls for passage in public to reach the bathroom. You seize up on the floor, convulsing and almost-vomiting. You want to puke but you can’t you lie on the floor after having eaten five cheeseburgers and a McCrispy Deluxe and feel how nice the cold tiled floor feels on your bare body. You realise you don’t really want to die. You realise this feeling of the cold tiles on your back and butt and sides is the nicest thing you’ve felt in a while, maybe since you started relapsing. Back and back again, and without even knowing why. Just the hurdle, to try and keep yourself alive. Hurts. Hypervection. What was that? New lows found, which turn into the peak nights I try to reach. No more saying ‘we’. Everyone else has gone away. Better that way. When I fall I want to be alone. Let nobody see me reach inside myself and scrape out the dregs of inner depravity. Inner depravity or just simple muck. Sludge all that’s left over. Emotions and ideas which were once whole, but battered around so much that they’ve reduced to what you push through in the wet bog. I saw a dark abyss with a guiding red rope. Now there’s no abyss, and there’s no rope either, and there’s no girl. It’s as if the universe hasn’t started yet. But where is the point? I get lost just trying to return to it. Smell flowers. Exiting the room where I have stayed. You take the colour out of everything, you take the sounds and the sights, but you still have the smells. I can’t smell flowers. Can anyone ever smell flowers? Flowers smell like perfume. Where does the flower begin? I smell the delicious turf being brewed in fireplaces below chimneys. Now I feel okay-ay-ay. Smell smelling flowers. get your snoz right into them deep into the pollen like his fat clit smell of strawberry lube or fish both indistinguishable now I feel okay. House of a thousand leaves. expand and contract open inwards flower growing backwards but there are of course no flowers inside the house in the house there is no design everything is fleeting within the house built itself no desire for art or creation creation just because it was made and now here it is.
3. As the World Falls Down 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAqnbnwJjDE
I need you to stay by me hold my hand as I fall down with the world fill me with your warmth and your love, Honeybear keep me from stepping too far down, down into the cracks which open up in my face and split my intentions the vast skies of bad ideas they all now percolate my future I don’t see where I will end up I don’t know who I am or who I need to be will you hold my hand I’ll tell you everything you are a window in my greyscale world a tiny keyhole which lets me see colours of the universe open up the beautiful blues and yellows in my deathmind as everything falls away curtain flutters down my last words left unsaid poem in the loosest sense what have you to say when birds last beat wings and now the dying day. I’m so fucking crazy, baby I’m sorry (not) that I’m misbehaving I’m your little starlet, harlot whip me with your violence back arched up to sky and ready for you..
4. Wal-king 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ502q9VqCIO
Wal-king wal-king wal-king wal-king 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDQmkCtklbG
One Foot in front of the oth er 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNjh15f604K
One foot in front of the oth er 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKkFMydpn3N
One foot in front of the oth er 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1Q0CpmEtea
One foot in front of the oth er foot 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoshVCwrmnB
(repeat indefinately)
5. Laura Palm,er speajs 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTXJe4SjTg9
I am the one who will die For this town to come alive Al;l is a hurricane. To take me away My life is hidden beneath walls of mystery Know one knows me really R, you don’t knowa thing about me really, Nobody knows the real me Hideen beneath layers of light and dark Darj and death Sexy lace lingerrie reverie to those who are leftt This is all wrong But no one cares No one will see As I am swallowed down below Goodbye … Burnin light from cigarette little signs youll neva get Im lying down, on the stone cold underneath Giving life back to the hell seta This is the high I only know I cant reach I am the one who sees both ways and all time beneath I know all sin and infin ity The world now falls aparrt and I am left The world in its loosest sense The world barely held together by its weords And magma magenta underneath Underneath. . . How far to go to penetrate the fat and find thin, skinny skin Skiiny person is like skin Skin-thing human being, being nothing much but anything Crawling along, in forest of night Scraping self-harm onto arms fromnoble tree branches Flinging bits of British cuisine onto flecks of sin What anm I sayin Two mysteries beneath Twin Peaks I rub my 2 big lovely fat breasts, and the peaks atop each of them This is all all of this has ever meant If laura was a Lorca this message would never have sent I need to get back I need to return To killarney old road To make the final journ... 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFLzBkoQaSt
6. Yurkin back the oldne road 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBxv7xbbAJw
Reed in grass in stream so green I long to leave my head ins tream Last gone loves Fileded grass flows aghast, finding stock after long absense of knowledge The night bird unfurls itself in the dim and finds purchase on the night grass Sounds ring true as brass
7. Poem in the Loosest Sense of the World Part One 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1xN5DnV83n
No one will ever know what the fuck it was like to be me No on ever … I am the communicator of lost ideas All the future versions see through the same pair of eyes Old versions Present videons Future belief Hope fort a stability which can’t ever fully strong Stabling the styles which demi-skirts out-ricked Where bended bridges falling proved better thsn sound stone slabs Where style finds way over soundness The black cat begoen! Down to kitch and fill me again with pitch Now in dakr niss This is my tuerist self In the absolute grandest since of things Lethal harmony just left behind Nothing inside, as ever All come together at final moment to form a lasting death Gone.
8. Unknown Home Dream Sequ 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCj0ZepAFU3
Go there in a dream Angled side mountain House is grey and strange Men all over in jackets, Just off the road, beside a road and nowhere in sight Nothing but tree forest Remnants of past dreams, All dreams before and nothing but fragments of world In here is great mighty open nothing In a fist is another ones hand And here is a man who wants to see you naked And here is a man who wants to see you dead and also naked Not mutually ex 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrx5qXf8OVj
New layer The two old sidesthe The two polar oppiosutes I am the bridge built over the valley, defined material, robust and unflinching I am the valley into which the bridge is built, its supports dig into me, being carved however it pleases Would you rather be the bridge or the valley?
9. Death coming to Life 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXYGizEVplt
It is. Too bad you’ll never be rad. The one in shine steps into the fire and the wood and smoke Which mixed with moss in a Molotov cocktail, Engulfs the virgin in the grey hot smoke Symbol woman burns away, sun burns out another day 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1ND6zt25hG
And in the morning choirboys gag At some girl left out her rag I stayed along and watched the mark Which used to house Joan of Arc, Then came voices, then came fate To seal her in her solemn caliphate Down under, the crypt below, Where famous such maidens go When history follows her folly pride When all riddled in stretched outside The stench of burning travels along I will no more sing my song Soon all buried, all battered thus, must funally turn Must fatally, fall amuss. Now falling body breeds anew, This lady’s brilliant avenue Bones wash clothes now Smoke sears hides, and all this death Remains some scholar’s exercise. 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaV4KQxT3N8
There’s no more singing, I hear leaves falling very clearly, there is no song, I hear the worldkind’s breath, I cannot sing no longer here now is the ocean, which free screams freely without breath, and some boulders will fall and roll and crannogs will creak and bend till all the world is freely screaming without one voice, this is how it will be when I am songless. The wanderer enters a bar and asks for something to satiate themselves They find there is no one left in the inn where they used to know the bar tender and the bar tender’s son and daughter and wife. They leave the inn to find not a soul left where they used to be feared as a guard of the king, they walk through their once-home, which is all now desolate and forgotten to time. Rotted by inevitable rot. They trip across ocean to the following kingdom and find an inn and ask for a drink. They are not satiated. Their world has passed away and this one which has passed on can satisfy them and their love is left empty. The people are strange AND they are a stranger. Dead to the world. Not even the colour peeps in. Death lives in the dying and not quite dead Cancer cells support the layers of death in a community The slow and festering underneath white pickmet Picking up girls at the bar, just to fill them with living cancer Living cancer is lively Dead cancer is lively too The dead can’t see and the world is rounded in between shades of green and pink and bleue
10. Blueblack manifestoo 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBka76lZVLT
Fire black new ball sack fall into swing Tiny version, contemplation of the thrusting orbus dual Which is found in extra bodies 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7Ww95fc49B
But non-till-know We don’t know the things that we say Who do you say and what’s your triligion? Why do you live in the same place that I live in? I am blue come black and come is white inside it all 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsP5copaIhR
Thoughts re-begin again how do I define the liufe in whihch I find life inside what is the outer life and what does it mean for the economy this barely holding on is the true tourist smeared now eyeshadow on knuckles blue from unuse and they ask what I’m thinking frail unused limbs are worked by the lazy devil and they ask what I see I say I see I see eyes inside seas all so uninspired world disappoints me and now msgs of no great opport you don’t know me none of you know me but to find yes to find something else which I left behind before and couldn’t discover for reason some vague excuse just pure melted gold left when all your memoires turn to dusying dustmen go figure I am trying to find a point with which to attack but feeling nothing, restist
11. Poem in its Loosest Sense Part 2 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk42kF37OXq
I suppose the real question was, what did I expect would happen? One minute I’m there and the Next imagining fantasies of O getting the shit kicked out of her. Fantasimo. Fanatic. The way that the tongues of life bound their ways around is touristly the poem in its most loose sense but even I am feeling, this all-seeing concept and title is draining of its original colour, and soon will be gone away. So this is the end, there never really was a beginning to the second half, it seemed so much just a continuation of the last end into this, some second try, but now, let us end it all, at last, so here is a lasting poem to intro the ending finally: When walls shudder back And darkness is relieved Dreams and life mix in Death is concieved In sex forced on by an omnipresent spirit In its loosest sense, the demon is a prophet Some strange little whisper, a try in the dark To find some grave meaning to this life of art Not found, though depths reached and dangerous pits The loosest sense reflects those in it.
12. Princess FiFi battles the deagckon parts 1-19 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVC83RvTIfR
[missing]
I have reached the tourist sate, Which only few seeem to occupur Dark and brooding now surge to soothing When beetle’s blood pro makes Not premakes The second come of ink for a new genor Or not known within What is felt here in I know no thing which is not known to him Who staged here felt the fleeting feelings of mass And S, your test of many down cast Feelings of many flown shown Gone now in the wind are many Just repeats of the same old gone Pre making human makes pre made man What is real Are you Is he Is she Are they Is we Is im Is it What is it meaning This mwaning Is the thing Keeping My eyes open I walked with my boyfriend’s mom along a river In the cracks of inland and saw her husband Flying home in an airoplane, far away Beyond any little liminal space in the real here and now I am me And I see What\? Life? No Non-existance complete Wine is weak Then I am not Now just 200 w0eds shy Of a final daftlittle yung un This is the “poem” in its truest sense What is real What was real Who the fuck cares All that lies is that bentewwn you and I Ijust odeed on 20puonds pills whatchau talking about I kick this danm door down Uhu yeahhh Ikick this damn door Down Kill it cmon A side of the scalene Some thing in the way Jesus came and bled for all of our sins Joséé came and died and here we are Making burgers We are are of us bringing Corpses To the gate of thw everlatsing Lapse on till you’re gone I'm gone down strings of fantas-ay Yeah (yeah) I find in my privelege, some lines of crack cocaine , And the alcohol seeps in And the rum breeds new And the thoughts think now Something in the way Yeah Chor us out like apples, when the world needed most, Some little nagarrashi , Johnny, teel me how I do Ooooo Something in the way ,the fandom cosume End Never end... Is Same time now become Come on] Is this whre ill find myself In morning Harvest off Collected rust R's mom finding foil in old ahe takour I find your fiace in some old J I saw auld É toda I World will make us evl ppl Evil people. This here world is full of Feeding off feeding dreams Habits and rituals & myths amd mystic’s crystal balls 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZlULNfCrWg
Who is sidius Who is dooku Who is lieaving for me? Looking hungry Misery hungry banna beach Harvest my dostoevsky Make me evil peelple Hand me myspade Time for a trip... Blow on like night Or like kite Flow alone Pqodkwdkpqwqpwdqqqpowieda;z\llpo3wliokssd,x,,x,,x,x,xxAPWOAPDODkfdopakfapfk Mamamemememy identity Shalalalalala mydenity I am now empty Emprt Empty Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhurts Empty Huuuuuuuuu Now I am here In my loosest sense Same sober woman discover Or transwom find that the unreal was rea; all along To becme sober I risk transcending back to average thought processes 34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcjXxmv3mus
This is how it is.34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjGocivbcZ1
34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLEvNSGyevA
