| Mood:- |
Killed glamorously, possibly knived to death inside a very green painting |
| Music:- |
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There exists this ravenous eater of sorts, this stabby-beaked blank-eyed fuzzy grey body, a long-legged lump, dirty and clutchy and musty. This eater, this surreal depiction of a satanic feathered skeleton, cuts through the tangled cords with its lashing mouth. They spark, shock its dull eyes further into blackness, pulse through its dangling open claws, shaking, shaking, strangling legs and tiny ugly wings with tiny bursts of lightning. There is little feeling left, the electricity is dead-alive-dead-alive-dead. Every prong on every plug is bent, and every outlet hangs skewn on jungle walls made of paper and string. An ugly bird in a fake falling-apart forest, stumbling jaggedly through seas of beads that roll under its deformed talons, an ugly bird exists. Like some small disgusting error, it limps through this green melting world, horrid, ugly, ugly, shaking, shaking. The only thing it wonders, the only words it imagines in its broken, crackling skull, is why, why, why! as it treks ghostlike, aching, numb. |
