dude-im-alive

Select the next tune to come up fast, Glass breathing in the air, the last Track blooming out without care, Staring down the mixer, blaring Sonic consistency in every ear drum Igniting wave forms, forming storms Which jolt the body in tidal falls, Jamming in beats fueled by rum. It’s sick, it’s nasty, the bass shoves in. Take down the hi to submerge us within The titanium ocean of industrial sound, Then release the hi to pierce white clouds. Backspin the last track and attack the crowd hard This beat’s so wavy it needs another chance. Reload the shit out of it, cue, cue, cue, play. Stamp out the rest of life,

Urging the curves of the earth to Emerge in sweet sensitive glory, Euphoria blasts its way back just to Bore me. Urging my heart to want To explode, hurling forth fire like a Volcanic node, distraught with practice How does anyone know? I’ll look to the Floor with peace loving knows. Swift Kick back through the door to the sky, Riding, sliding, chiming that experience Called time, igniting the pastures of Temporal space alight, realising our Vision sees straight through the night, Deleting all darkness and entwining with Light, Confiscated memories of self- Defeat take flight, and the gaps are filled with Courage.

Sensodyne tongues curl Lyrics in our ears. I talk of the vagrant lot Who’ve wandered many years. Teleporting slowly across Landscapes in my mind, Then out into reality Having become externalised. Dread pumps in marrow, As dead crumple out, The rest of the vagrant lot Still alive scream and shout. With no destination, No battle in their heads, They’ll wander every pasture, Until over the edge their steps…

We were growing up and our imaginations settling down. Eight years spent in the same room together almost every day couldn’t prepare our bonds for the changes we were about to go through. At the age of eleven a fresh start is needed. In that last year of primary school I still played games in the Carlton Hill playground. Me and the few remaining classmates that weren’t pretending to be older than we were, still roamed the lands of our favourite videogames and fantasies at lunch-time. We picked up sticks which became vorpal blades and sliced through hordes of evil ghosts. We ran faster than sound in light up shoes with Sonic the H

I heaved Aunt Mariam’s bag in through the front door. “Laney, let your brother do it,” said Aunt Mariam. “I can take a bag of clothes into a house, its fine.” I said. She was here again. The smell of cheap duty free perfume filled my nose, as it always did, the moment she stepped into the house. She was like a pink, paisley balloon filled with the stuff. Brandon reached the top of the grey, London stairs behind her. He smiled at me and raised his eyebrows behind her back. He was right, she’s family. We just have to live with it. He put the car keys in his pocket and walked into the house. “Right, c

The end of the cave is so close. You jump. The boulder crashes to a stop behind you. More dust and rubble tries to reach you, but you are moving too fast for it. Out of the cave, away from the boulder, but there is still no time. The mountain is beginning to crumble. I watch you scramble up again and run to the Land Rover. You see me and shout my name. I wait for you to come. The car sets dust up behind it, wheels spinning, as rocks start falling around us. You drift around a rock and start coming towards me. I grab your outstretched hand and hold on tightly. You pull me into the truck and put your foot down. We tear off into the distance, aw

A mystic on a mountain Reads the written of the cosmos, Laughs at those caught up In the small. He paints lines in tunnels Knowing their futility, And their power, Their infinity and their spark. He knows there is no grand scheme. He knows that it all is. The descriptions people give him, He knows they are all wrong. He hasn't found anything, Or remembered what it is to be, Or accepted the truth. He hasn't done anything.

Swim fish To blue liquid Home Deeper than Sky Atop magma, Forming land Where eyes Perceive, Lodged into Minds, a Machine which Decides anything.

A boy lived in a city, Who fell in love with a girl. Time left him old, And one day he died. When he was dead... He saw his life. Then floated away, To the other side. We can't know What he's doing now In the maybe world, Of the after life. Perhaps he's before us, Waiting to arrive In the shoes of a boy Who loved a girl in a city.

Once upon a time, in a large and gracious land in the continent of Asia, there lived a king. His name was Kim Jong Un and he was the supreme leader of North Korea. Following his late father, Kim Jong Il, to the throne, he attained his mighty role at the rather young age of 31. This made him the youngest head of state the world has ever seen. The young King loved food. He would spend each day and night ordering his chefs to cook him the finest cuisines from every conceivable corner of the planet. Sometimes he would order a common local dish such as Nakji, and enjoy tearing the handfuls of squirming octopus limbs from their bodies with his sla