When the tint on the television cooks up a good batch of brain puss. Ears clogged with natural defense. All the licks now hit, hard. Middle of the superstore known for selling everything, and y’all ain’t never been had anything to ever even sell. It’s a mirror you completely walk though, shattering it, while noticing and saying simultaneously, “Oh, you’re a broom store. Clean this up!”
An oil factory that is wastoid based. Deterioration from bottom on up. A sweet stinker, if you will. Exactly tight. Saying things will be okay without resolution. Falling asleep for hours. When a two-hour nap takes a five-hour wrong turn. Not knowing what time you’re currently going to the bathroom. Why is everything fluorescent?
Nothing like the old bit of blockage. When only complete mutterings sludge out in strides. Fucking striiides. A perfect night for the strip club and you spend a wallet stuffed with singles on dollar video rentals and arcade games. “An hour of the Tekken Tag Team Tournament Two, tho?” Some face only an emoji could express. And you been had the Tekken Bowl championship title since high school swim team.
Tiger Blood Tapes been following the flow of my routines. Slush Conez is exactly where I’m at recreationally, now, within this moment. Behold my weekend momentum narrated in sound structures by MindSpring Memories (Side A) and valyri (Side B) streaming below:
More about: Mindspring Memories, valyri
