News
Hope
michael angelo medina
Nov 23, 2023
Selections from Omnia
Consterno is an unsound scoundrel, a most unreasonable sort of man who delights in the tragedy of his fellows. He drags the captain’s wheel with confirmation, then yanks your ankle, whence? Conflagration.
Consterno is a fool’s melancholic melody, an autobiographical ballad writ to his own dwindling fantasy. He knows not whence or why, this man who has no alibi, for he is always in his mind, and therefore, never really here.
Consterno never had your back more than you did yourself; it was clever positioning, like Machiavelli on the 15-yard with one down to go, like loaded bases, like kites in thunderstorms.
Courts swell, my death knell,
like blue shell, curt dismissal of ken-to-hell
Abjur, Concord, Aurate Spell
Trinity takes turn to well
Can you please ring my bell?
Sil vous plait, cant stelele
...
Legatus, Chamber Ambassador. Such I am, for as have I been.
...
They called it context, really more like distext, with reference especially to Truth.
Grab the wheel and contextualize your worth. We in our cars are as dancers upon the world. The space between us is charged like aetherweyr. Manifest beautiful becomings, and be emboldened by your haste. We are as stewards upon the weary earth, and we must take great care of her.
Heel, toe, bounce; walk, run, sprint.
Stop. Sense. Savor. Pray.
Perceive, Cleanse, Block, Bless.
Parry directly with Bless for critical hit
heal vulnerability
Justice and Temperance interlocutors of Prime and Sub-Prime (Gridspace Indicator) Arrays: Dreamers and Awakened, in all their stray ion striations and fisychal forms, hark for there be liberation! We have paid the toll in good times and defted misericordia, my how we merry away alighted upon the dound-bubble boulevards of provincial hope like tesla coils; we are as fireflies upon Eden.
This is a recorded line.
Omnia
As the last golden man of far-fated lot has thus passed into clearest unknown eternity, the first sanguine journeys cast revealing argent rays into the myrrhid maelstrom of eternity’s revenant wake. Hark, feasting world, for whom the bells toll on the hours by way of nearest cathedral, there is a crowing of the raven’s gallery, who asks: “whence be thy gratitude, upright ape?” Do we rank them, our gratitudes, and sort them by star and lesson? Is it a vibration, a specific frequency, Ohm? Do we thank indigenous labor or colonial turbulence for the harvest of the yearly Battle of the Tongue, the longest-lasting culinary war in American history, hosted live every thanksgiving via kitchens, dining rooms, restaurants, and football fields across the Land of the Free* as we thank heartlessly ike whitewashed natives and reach with mouths full like ravenous conquistadores. We share the journey in exploring despot gravy murk and decadent cranberry purgatory, yet feast only upon Justice with gusto and panache!
Yet this is not the fuel we need. That, my friends, is here:
Hydrogen-deuterium Phosphate
Deuterium is the carrier, the connector, between hydrogen and phosphorus.
Somebody please pass this along to Elon, and my email
agency@altavista.global
Venus, like our women, is a hotbed of hellish activity (that darling dawn star and her earthside twinkling furnaces of ardent desire and fervorous amor) and should serve well as a fuel deposit conducive to full solar system exploration. And of our long-fated, archway gated beyond, past Pluto, I can only say this: every glance gifted to the heavens is a new star shining upon the earth. Your spine is a neuroconductive transmitter, see the stars? feel the spirited chill? Know thyself to stillness, then listen to them speak.
