Dali's crazy asian girlfriend to the rescue, manning the passed out fire-fighter's hoe. Diluted canvas and diluted pupils, he was still basking in the turn on of the gallery being set ablaze before he could recollect. The ambulance was the first to arrive. Pacing paitiently with the water proof Google lens on, he saw it. The black cat. It was searching with it's eyes and moving towards his brush.
Alarm clock set at 9 goes off every 5. Far reaching consequences, with work unfinished. Freelancing for dummies on the other pillow, face down.
Zombie'd it to the balcony. Smoke, Drink, blush, brush, etc. The phone is still alive, huge battery mod on. Waiting, watching, staring till the eyes are fully aclimatised.
Before you know it, the waves hit. Sunshine on the face. Dust on the nose. All sorts of pollution violating the primal urge. Breakfast-hunting for now.
D-uh! Do you know of anything else than what you may have not picked up from the internet? “Me?” Just looking for a basecamp to finally summit the unatainable. The neo-web! Yeah, the story goes that the baddest hackathon just went down downtown in broad daylight challenging the very monolith that the “ISP” had become.
No one individual, rather no corporate identity could justify the monogamous relationship cultured so timidly over a much too calm century. The basics were alright; all the senses intact, however, the dreams... they were garnering a cult following.
Virtualisation of all sensation, who would have thought, possible now, outlawed tomorrow. Too many opting for euthanasia, and the doctors left not knowing what to do with the comatose remains.
Well, the inter-web-views all went well and we had some new stuff that needed to be undertaken. The team was at each other's behest.
Net within, quiet rooms till the walls, the shape of which no one really remembered or forgot. The noise was a buzzkill at times.
So, the intricate waveforms were starting to splash the not so distant continents, ones that nobody called home anymore.
The current deal was to get in and out as swiftly as time permitted without actually leaving a footprint. We're that good!
Where have all the animals gone?
Some say there is a bunch of private islands housing the not yet extinct species, while the rest of us only see pictures of what once was. Those majectic eyes we have never known that cause major turbulance if stared at for too long, those are the source to go to in troubled times.
Imagination is the offshoot of the core, the all supreme, the ever morphing one. Hate those weekends where the rich are at the “centre”, when the orgasmic state occurs for the mortally rounded off.
Inter-planetary time zones are the norm in a time when most can not even ill-afford a routine walk through the ruins. Home has been exhausted and there is the soul to play and pay with.
With our next target in sight, we zoom with all our collective resource and capture a rarity onto file. Nobody guesses these days. Everything is logical. Everything is safe. Fool's paradise. Fool's money.