Blinding Lights

 Fresh Dawn | Lake Jindabyne 

 Blustered

 Moon Clips

[55]

Rolling Digital Dice & Tapping Broken Glass

I spent a majority of my morning clicking buttons on a comptuer, rolling digital dice in Baldurs Gate attempting to get the best possible scores for my characters attributes (abilities). If you're unfamiliar with D&D these are: Strength, Constitution, Dexterity, Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charism. These define how well your character does as it interacts with the world. Kinda important, so I took the time to get a banging roll. The character I'm creating is a half-elf multi-class fighter/mage. His name is Weize Gladefire. He's proficiant with morning stars and claims, and two-handed fighting style. I'm quite excited as this will mark my return to the Forgotten Realms universe aka Faerûn. Exciting, I know. Starting out fresh always has it's challenges, especially multi-classing, as I'll level up slower, but in the end, the benefits will far out weigh the sluggish start. I'll have the fighting skills to hold up in combat, with the added bonus of being able to use magic. And using magic, at least for myself, is quintessential if I'm embarking on a fantastical journey. I'll embellish more as my journey unfolds.

Speaking of embarking on new outtings, I've typed this all in the blogger app on my phone, which happens to have a shattered screen. Although shattered, it all still works, and sometimes you just have to use what's available to you at any particular moment. Unfortunately, I'm tired of pecking on this piece of shit, so I'll write more when I have a real computer.

Pessimistic Positivity

Moodyville's muse kicks tin cans

triumphant failures mock knowledge

and my positivity rides waves

moments influence, inflections laugh

I've gone deft to deliver

intentions to lift

strange, pessimism, smells putrid

cold comfort found in misery

the ministry dictates

fearing pain less, embracing more

presence will always be

and I mock myself

at my best, because I know all 

inner workings paved waves

I will be high

I will be low

my only goal

climb higher every peak

and fall harder

till I bleed

neglecting fear of impending injury

disdain for comfort

the most treacherous journey

is to the middle 

Perilous Feats, Trifling Weak

Here's a flip-flop. Flip-flapping, furthering fermentation, dank drinks drunk and destroyed. I got little words today, but think, big pictures rather. Fuck the thousand words, because that shit is never obvious.  Dastardly, they assume the signals from one persons eyeballs to the brain will somehow completely explain their intentions. My connections to these photographs will always be greater because I was there for the moment of capture. My thousand words are my own, and you can't have them. You'll undoubtedly form your own. That's the intention. It's art, and emotions seek the mother tongue for description. I can ad quips, steering the ship in a north-easterly direction, but you're already in the life raft drifting. Here's a life saver. My excitement is derived from crisp, extraordinarily framed, abundantly lit (or highly absorbed), photographs. 

Never mind. My phone just rang and I have to go move into my new house. 

A la Photographic. 

 Please Hold - While I travel to space and back.

These Streets are Full of Flair

Fervour Fears Feist

Chills spiral through to fruition. Mongrel dogs howl hypnotic through the darkness. Our fear feels, as comfort in numbers sits illusive. Journey's whisper is close, unseen, but awareness that her proximity is immediate, I steady my shaking hand. 

"Take another step!"

Thoughts of distant are irrelevant. It's here and now only for this moment, forever. Digest the setting, the sky folds through ripples of time and space. We can travel the impossible distance, whoever deemed impossible, never accomplished. I reach up and pluck stars, curing heartache forever. 

My DeLorean hums. I'm attacking horizons, spinning hesitations fear me. Gum trees blurrrrr. 

Eighty-Eight miles per hour, and I'm standing still. 

I've forgotten where I came from, and severely doubt the road that lies before me. Plucked from my own experience, I can't trust my perceptions of the future. Can I trust the past? Doubtful, recollections are faint, and wear pigs heads as masks, dancing naked round burning bushes. Fuck the meaning. I take off my pig head and am conscious. 

I'm not sure I can tell the difference between my day and night dreams. I find my imagination is working much more these days. I chalk it up to more viscera activity. My guts have been churning, my surroundings impacting my consumptions. Goon Sacks. Direct connection resulting in revelation. It's working, so habits changing is extremely unlikely. And why would I want to change? Why would you want to change? Careful now. Self-examination is dangerous if you're not qualified. Like self-medicating is frowned upon if you're not a doctor. But don't worry, I went to film school, I'm a qualified self-examiner. Introspection gets convoluted swift. I recommend balancing it out by self-medicating. I'm also a doctor, in my dreams. 

I have some pictures to upload as well, but I keep forgetting the card reader when I venture to town. I'll describe one of my favorites to keep your curiosities at bay. The set-up. Salty, Troy, Matt, and myself drove into Canberra the other day to gather supplies. On the way back I took some pictures from the back seat while we drove. Lets say, blurred lines transpired. Stay tuned friends. 

This Mechanism got Tooled

Arbor arched awning aloft

Buzzed business burned bonds

Chatters chipped clipping cliques

Denver dogs dawned days

Effortless eulogy entranced equivocally

France fucked foreign freighters

Gators grind gruelling giblets

Horses hooves hovered hostile

Introspective indignation iced insensitivity 

Jaguar jinxed jumbo jet

Kaleidoscope kin killed king

Lustrous languish lulled lazily 

Monetized masqueraded meticulous melodrama

Nano nips nuzzled neatly

Optimized optometrists ordered oats

Pounding pandas paraded proudly

Quick queens quack quarterly

Rapping rabbits raped rubber

Stinging stipulations suffered stigmata

Tougher teams terminate transvestites

Uppers understand understatements ultimately

Victorian victories vacate vicinities 

Wandering wizards warp winchesters 

Xylotomous xylophone xeroxes x-rayed 

Yuppies yelled yesteryears yatters

Zipped zeal zealously zoomed

Cluster Heads full of Stars

 [Goals to the end of the Universe]

 [Heads full of Stars]

Cluster heads full of Vast

Distracted last

To the ends of the universe

Spells oft cast

Distilled, tasted curse

 [Jindabyne, NSW, Australia]

[Night Trails]