Man behind faset

Time after time there comes a man. Long distance shot. its not a script its a poem. There comes a manwith certain face. Most people has a mas on it becausr life of suble emotions and anatomy of lie is so fragile. But the one with his face stands still agains the storm from the graving sunsets.


One afternoon in the universe. sunday missing the sound of his head. Two hearthbreakers weaping about marsmallow in the universe. in and out no direction. Man with a certail ability goes in the room. Screen the detail of his leg. No answet on the table. the point is extremely mislead.


The zenit of human invention expired. Guy in the fishing net is done. Alone in the rasberry world. Naked woman reading a novel. In the novel is a towel. Deconstruting a bathroom. Bathrooms six sense of narration. Like a tool for modern literary expansion beyond the horizont.


Horizont ended in us. we see ancient rituals. deoribonucleotic snakes flaming in patterns. are voices are only juxtapositions and curiosity check of other voices. there is no creativity left in the universe. kickfliping brains and melting chawchains dying in last plazma ray of sacrificial light. spotting arc of sight.


In the vast room there is a thin man. No evidence of daydream or consciouss suicidal tendencies. His eyes stands on the opening page. we dont know who is writting the page if the youngster in hamaka or unknown bagger in the space garbage truck full of shitloads. The man behind facets the show is so called. turntires of fractal destiny.


Drowning set ups on the rolley coaster of horrifying human history. Twisted cows in the holy wormhole. Tipping xylophone trickster on zoo tycconn. Mandatory for zombie ventrilloqist show. Mouthole of mammalist full of dull aliens. Now the paranoia is doomed the writet wrist itself for sure.

Sediments of white dust. mirror of all thinks and plants is broken. Comedian thinking twice about lyrical chaos vs humor droplets. Slovanic dialect in the rocket science magazine. The unnamed letters howling throught stratospere. Meridian of jorseloads on daily joy conventions.


Man behind desk is a life. How man could be life says seventy years old quiter. He is not afraid of lunatic silency shared in the raving pub. Pernament shifting of perspectives beyond formal understanding of schoolar. Fractal ornaments of masterpiece masses.


Grooverider in the jaws of funky beats. Master head is decolonized. Decolonizers are spinned aroun the globe of theatre breathing djing worldplay. Punks drop bombs of rough tempo in guillotine game. Russian rullete played by japanise ants. Holy grails of gaps and apeses corpses.


Man behind desc is man with a hat. He is writting the sript or scenario at the same time. its unforgetable desing of syllables and verses sculptures enter from void to nothingness to life. Facets on the rooftop of idea building is deadly. Its all reflection of mainscreem. But now the ink is gone. Past is holded in eye of many. Future still drowning crowd of challenge. Present clown is no more dead.


Some of the time he is dark as poet on mysterious bad acid trips in Maldorors woods. Hoods are full of fractal dragonflyes around orbits. Its you and me in nameless extasy. I like it your way on stage or above. In heavens noisy amnesia of young boy fear. Portions loved portioned. Portishead adhesis.


Man under the treess is full of suns. Unasual case of causal aliquency. Alein speech frequency on fractal currency. Circulating energy in the cumulative universe.

versing verbality in non observed comunity of fourth milenium herecy.