Toroidal moment stream

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: November 09, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 09, 2018



OH SHIT where do I start
I’ve been doin nothing other than just sitting around
totally hypnotized by a killer episode of this or that

blastin my third eye to the stars
I sit there and question my sanity
and then Owp there goes gravity
then I’m spiralling down freefalling accomplishing absolutely nothin other than the complete and utter hyperfuck of my days and my weeks that then turn in to my months and my years and my decades
and then suddenly I’m standing there thinking something like
ooooooo it’s really zip nada nothing
other than I’m on a one way ticket to ultra fast rocket to nowhere town
and it feels like I’ve been here for a million fuckin eons
just decomposing and recomposing my composure my overexposure

exploring my outside realities just wasting my time hypermoshing through my cerebral doors
too busy rollin around rippling through my speakers scrolling through my webpages thinking up new recipes
not accomplishing anything
should get up to go cook up some kinda slap up swish dinner
bust out some fresh new flavours to keep me in their grip pinballing me round like some super magic forces

my special sauces got me flying through the abyss through the portal through the eternal stream back on my bike back on my game back to my back to my back to my slap up swish dinner

I’ve got fukishima radiated salmon fillets cookin up with crispy skin on all sides
so sweet so nice my spice my salt my sauce
got a range of flavours to keep me in their grip pinballing me around like something out of one of my weird dreams
which have been getting weirder and weirder lately might I add too

through the eternal stream I get my teensy little twinkle toe taste bud hold in to this source this sauce so bright I go through the abyss through the portal
back to my game back on my bike back to my dinner at home
in the matrix holographical
it’s real it’s mathematical

I cook my fukushima radiated salmon fillets perfectly crisp up on all sides
so much freshness and strange behaviours
creating astral flavours
for an infinite indimensional immortality

Bim-saladim-saladaaaaaaaaa I blast my third eye to the stars
slow roasted mini explosions of caramelised perfectly salted and peppered pumpkin mixed up in to the most amazingly deliciously oh so tasty
amazingly lightly spicy and not too heavy
pumpkin, pine nut, and feta salad
with baby spinach and rocket leaves
and just a light amount of thinly sliced red onion
those pine nuts are toasted to perfection
Persian feta marinated in rosemary and olive oil
all drizzled over lightly with a sticky mixture of sweet local honey and thick balsamic glaze sauce

wild caught fukoshima radiation salmon fillets cooked up with crispy skin on all sides
scattered over the side some crispy fried capers and roast garlic that’s all topiaried to perfection with a dollop of hollandaise sauce
it’s so amazing I think I could drink it
I guzzle in to it all dripping it down my chin diggin it down like a fish slut
fish fuck fish fuck fish fuck dill pesto punk hot mess dropping it everywhere like I’m on a sinking ship and it’s my last meal ever
and ya know what
it seems like I’ve been waitin for this moment for millions of fockin eons

we have an apple crumble for dessert with fresh grated apples
OH MY and a crispy topping of buttery muesli cookie crumble
and ohhhh man
that crumble sauce
that also features a little drizzy drizz of the local honey
which is from my favourite beekeeper of all time, I might add
you might catch him in a killer episode of this or that

you could get lost in that crumble sauce for hours
without every really accomplishing anything other than just being a useless fuckin eater and achieving nothing really other than the total complete and utter hyperfuck of your days and your weeks and your months that then blur in to your years and your decades
and you’ve been locked in to autopilot forever

going through life like you’re really just staring at a screen in a total fuckin trance
totally hypnotized by a killer episode of this or that
or you’re making music and being a useless fuckin eater all day
for hours and weeks and years and decades and moments pass eating and doin your jam
then one day
you realise you’re really watching everything around you all slowly go up in flames and you don’t really have anything to show for it at all
na zip nada nothing
your day is lost when you finish your dinner and turn off your screens your amplifiers without making any real impact on anything
lost in your world
I'm a lord of snackytown
lost in my mantras
a lord psychoconsumer monstrofatty wasting my life creating flavours and each of my moments are disappearing lost forever in to other fleeting moments that just drift off in to the ether
replaced by more moments and more moments in a neverending torroidal moment stream gushing past disappearing away

it should all be going down in the hall of fame for uber demigods and megababes and paragons
cuz there is so much freshness
and strange behaviours

bim saladim saladaaaa
ohh yaaa snackymaster

I mastered all the cooking classes, passed all kinds of dough through dough stargates

got some recipes of mine that are so fine they’ll blow ya mind

so I’ll sit up to another million kazillion slap up swish dinners
and tapenda barrellin down on ya like an unstoppable engine
to pass all the pinnacles before you die
spicy, sweet, salty, sour, savoury, tangy, tart
the depths of every balance and temperatures, all at once
at one with the world
in perfect harmony with it

I fight demons with my spicy chili chakras
burritos from sanhata
oh my heartaaaaaaaa stigmataaaaa

my eyes well up with gratitude
there’s red grapes
there's roast lamb that melts softly off the bones
cooking over fire
I decompose and recompose my composure
fajitas, ahh my heart-aaaaa

I have a range of flavours to keep me in its grip pinballing me around like something out of one of my weird dreams
which have been getting weirder and weirder, might I add too

I can’t remember most of them upon waking
and sometimes I find out I’m still in a dream within a dream

an inception of little dreams within dreams

and really when you think about it, that’s how life is, really
just like that
life is just a series of little dreams within dreams

and everything is just a little series of little deaths
lost moments
lost pasts 
fading memories
sliding doors, parallel dimensional futures
psuedomemories and strange dreams

I download an epic sci-fi movie about quantum entanglement
to my third eye in my sleep

adventures through the jungle with some dinner recipes to wind up the day
that are so fine I try to explain it all sometimes
and end up letting other peoples’ mediocre imagination twigs frame me down in to something more palatable for them

but that’s better than just sitting around wasting my life commenting casually on shit and mutilating my pleasure senses with my constant visceral psychoconsumer electricity addiction just plodding through lifes fading moments endlessly making my music that I can only make when nobody is watching or listening and only I can hear when nobody is looking and only I know what goes on in the monstrous infinite fractal chaos of a void
blindly searching down each abyss and door in my cerebral cortex

my molten physics downloads dreams and visions reeling and toroidally streaming past to be forever lost

I stick my fishing rod out in to the toroidal moment stream and reel in another fukoshima radiation salmon fillet for another great time another great classic hit
another bit ticking time along moment by moment, frame by frame

I’m a little peeved at the way that I think
and the way that I don’t think, to be more exact

I’m a little peeved at my 3D reality and astral infinite dimensional immortality where I can’t catch a good sleep

I get my teensy little twinkle toe hold in to this sauce this source so bright through the eternal toroidal moment stream through the abyss through the portal
back to my game back on my bike back to my dinner
which was perfectly crisp

this all might be a little uncomfortable to picture
but you could be saving all of the pointless time that you’ve wasted just hopelessly thinking and thinking and thinking about stuff
you could be saving all that time you’ve wasted totally hypnotized by a killer episode of this or that
lost in your maudlin musins about stuff and those pesky little thoughts that do nothing other than go TEE HEE and shove you down in to the spiraling spinning vortex and giggle sweetly as they tunnel you down further with that non-refundable ticket to go on the ultra fast rocket to nowhere town
where you can sit in your seat comfortably going through lifes rollercoasters watching lifes history from the backseat like you’re just playing X-box for days and you don’t have any cash but you don’t worry because you can sell your soul or five fingers from your first born child and walk away with no more to pay until next week

smashing through each level and quest in an endless little series of little mini-deaths
it's just like an old game, it just gets harder and faster and faster
until you die

you’d be dangerous if you didn’t disarm and nuke yourself out every now and then
with new experiences to ponder and ruminate and masturbate over
and a really heavy feed to slow you down at the end of the day so you can crawl off in to your dark and comfortable cave with a litre of coconut water and feel like you’ve achieved some of whatever little blasting bits of potential that you have had hidden locked away inside your endless twisting head up there

plagued by moments and recipes
sauntering through it all mind you like a total professional all of the time 
well pretty much almost all of the time maybe just 85% of the time or 75% or maybe a fucking lot less depending on what your standards actually are
but who fucking cares anyway
you're all too busy floating and kicking and skidding down the toroidal moment streams splashing fearfully
while your alter-ego takes over to get the job done
but it’s a big mistake because imposter syndrome kicks in and your personal representative is fully not equipped to do the job either

sorry this ended in the worst fucking possible way
but we've actually got an idiot savant here
someone needs to take over the wheel but I can’t do it cuz the al fresco pesto punk is driving like a maniac screaming at 5km an hour down the mental mind footpath alongside the toroidal moment stream trying to distract me from the apollolyptic licking and kicking maelstrom flailing spree that’s been bubbling up needlessly and endlessly fucking relentlessly as I’m ticking shit off my do and don’t-wanna-do lists
and should-have and shouldn’t-have-said lists that bubble up in my brain
and in my life pointlessly
just thinking and thinking and thinking about stuff

and doing things forever that only just fade away and disappear

endless blinking endless instants never really getting you anywhere

other than onto that one way ticket to go on the ultra fast rocket to nowhere town

fading away slowly 

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