Sonic Week 1.27: Spectacular Unknown
Reeling in cursive beats, she glides across the strings of their wavy implications. In a time when ignorance has no value, we must scream our innocence at one another, and even then the twa/eets will never retreat- at least never from shifting belief, only ever from boredom and time’s trendy, front row seat. You’ll remember that you fought for personal truth, but not for the revamp of an overwhelmed generation. Strong, watery eyes push forward around the block, collecting smoke from last round’s fire and kicked up ashes from the one prior. Autumn leaves crunch beyond recognition, now stirred with summer mud in an indiscernible collage of past and possible future.
I am tired/he is tired/but I’m happy and inspired. Stabs of honest expression wander up and down the city scrapers, eventually finding a more balanced beauty in the bodies and low homes of our beloved, our social hearts, our broadest mirror bodies. Sprouting, breathing shells roll in river banks outside, warm and wet, glitching to fruition on an earth that flies through dark matter like oddities twine through a future, unknown idea. Sun step into your fertile gunk, the vibrant browns that resonate from a night of living dreams. They want life like your pulsing feet want ground. They’re beating at your conscious dome to be serious, real, and kaleidoscopically free.