chemicals – Bass Bastard

May 1, 2026

Toxic Dreams

Contaminated thoughts
Fueled by toxic dreams
The smile says tranquility
Inside the brain just screams

Plastic eyes reflect the world
No shine coming from within
Trauma blasted mental state
Kills thoughts as they begin

Circling the cavitation
The waste lay in its wake
Another day, another pill
Is it a good day to break

Contaminated thoughts
Fueled by toxic dreams
The smile says tranquility
Inside the brain just screams

Needing to nurture mother
To sleep a dreamless eternity
Crawl inside the barren soil
And feed it with my entity

Look within and find the void
In the middle of the maelstrom
Quiet place of entropy
The calming peace of sanctum

Contaminated thoughts
Fueled by toxic dreams
The smile says tranquility
Inside the brain just screams

May 1, 2026

Into the Cranial Chaos

(Reposted from recovery)

The blending is taking the stark
making gray

Bold realizations become clouds

the static murmuring, burning bland
When all is heat, then hot has no reference
and cold burns

Interrupt driven

grinding the gears, pushing steam
hold this chaos, hold this mind
a misfire sparks a wildfire and bathes one in the instant glory that leaves ashes

But the come down
post orgasmic tremors

The gray takes over, and there is no set Medelbrot can create to break this constant shade that makes my shade crave escape again.

Like the gray matters in the grey matter.

Blend away

bend until they become the same

break away from this path and just have this moment as we embrace again the inner peace of gathered fragments that is the cranial chaos

That was once our lives

July 12, 2024July 12, 2024

Etching

The acid flow of ideas eating through the neural pathways
dendritic lightening tightening the bonds but will it esterase the base of the glitch
the itch

etching its way through the fractal road practical stowed in the crevices
psychic ceviche but there is no lime
ticking in the aftermath when there is no time

taste the acid etching through the crevasse under the corpus callosum, widening the divide between what we calculated and what was chosen

Sour thoughts and smooth brains talking about soft hands and black stains on lung scans but not enough miles on my airplane scans to smoke a camel in quicksands…

Where were we?

susurrations of scales over sands expands the bands of spectrums still unseen in the violence of the liquid scream
the only comfort in the taiga is the lack of scales and thermal vision, making the frisson of fear of the enlightening one

the glowing son

the burning sun

am I the only one?

But this fertile garden now frozen in fear, the fertilizer steaming in the fresh fallen ice
looking for the navigation device
or just the vice
that drove the motor
the engines
over the edge

the irony of freezing to death staring into the eldritch fusion reactor we call god.