Wednesday, June 15, 2005
The Pink Goo has Eyes
Protoplasmic goo is what comes after the first thing and before the last, sometimes the other way around. It is pink, it has sparkles with eyes in them. It is the underlying transsubstance that synthesizes the pieces and parts. As each part has been assigned a beverage, so too has each pressure point thoughtflash been generated by pin-prick holes from a rotating pin receptacle that can be found at your core. It is a tiny polyhedral structure that perpetrates a pattern of pricks through logorithms. When it stops everything turns mindblack for you, the sum of all darknesses, all in one. You may then enter the creeping throng, the cone of silence, the elongated lightbox hidden beneath the dirts, the ethereal cloudpoofs in your imagining of high up. This is not my belief, it is my fact of superstition that comes into me even when I ask it not to. The delight and transcendence suffuses you, your thoughts do battle, each by each with budgrowths of spotty feeling-states. The feeling-states always win. They exist for all time within the tiny empathetic eyes of goo who watch everything all at once.