[NetBehaviour] Their warmed worn-out squaggly puzzle gust squatting red compass!

isabel brison ijayessbe at gmail.com
Fri May 15 01:00:38 CEST 2015


Wow. How did you come up with the text? It looks machine generated but
really fine-tuned :-)

On 15 May 2015 at 08:49, James Morris <james at jwm-art.net> wrote:

>
>
> Handsome detriments amongst other things clump together in the night like
> clocks arguing amongst the tents of claggy braided dragon slayers. Me and
> my posse clamber with constant correctness dictating to one person chosen
> at random for a period of thirty seven and a half years the importance of
> relaxation during the act of ghost hunting.
>
>
>
>
>       [image: header]
> <http://www.jwm-art.net/art/image/headerfs-20150514.jpg>
>
> * Their warmed worn-out squaggly puzzle gust squatting red compass! *
>
>
>
> * What help is coming when capsules of fingernail trickling down the neck
> of a screwdriver prevent fickle minded temptresses from hiding behind
> curtains of rock and moss? *
>
> Resillience is never helpful if the yelps of tesselation coincide with the
> alignment of teaspoon and teabag while the forthcoming rapture ends
> needlessly before it begun. Yet, when reaching the cliff edge, if you can
> tie up your shoelaces without fear, you might stand a chance in this life.
> ------------------------------
>   [image: entry1] <http://www.jwm-art.net/art/image/entry1fs-20150514.jpg>
>
> * Infernal percentages of quality controlled pissant stampedes *
>
> Greatness resides in toiletry bags emptied of their humdrum commodities by
> a calculating entity composed of the thoughts of a populace within any
> given council district.
>
> It is given by ten boulders ordered to collapse into many fragments by the
> stone-throw of a donkey scared of by its own imaginings of a helpless
> pigeon with its wings and feet wrapped in clingfilm on a dockyard in the
> sun.
>   ------------------------------
>  [image: entry2] <http://www.jwm-art.net/art/image/entry2fs-20150514.jpg>
>
> * Whitehall develops tetris gulf wrap wrongly and stifles dufflebags *
>
> Quickly non stick freedom grates against the personalization of the first
> thoughts of the day. It happens most days when hopping on one foot can lead
> to hemlines scooping chain gangs along the perimeter of an elliptical
> flower bed.
>
> Whatever candles can say about static electricity is recorded for
> posterity by one ant and one ant alone.
>   ------------------------------
>  [image: entry3] <http://www.jwm-art.net/art/image/entry3fs-20150514.jpg>
>
> * Multiplication by ten derelict tower blocks leaves osmosis under seige. *
>
> Rebuilding a blagging boat's corrupt offal rich fondant stimies voters at
> election time drowning in the upcoming sorrowful extinction of honey bees.
> The residue of covert surveillance forms underneath the heel of elderly
> athletes.
>
> Continuing the form, collating images of chickens pecking mint bushes,
> victims of pencil theft voice their concerns about patriarchical atom
> smashers.
>   ------------------------------
>  [image: entry4] <http://www.jwm-art.net/art/image/entry4fs-20150514.jpg>
>
> * Quicken the pulse of resolute wine makers quaffing heated treacle. *
>
> In terms of stopping what can temporarily hinder cucumber sandwich making
> from overtaking political discourse as a popular pass time, what they're
> talking about is in timid terms, yapping like a dog with its leg caught in
> a cat flap.
>
> In other words, you can always find the same old letters scattering your
> thoughts here and there as if by a gust of psychic wind bristling the
> leaves of the mental equivalent of cauliflower plants after harvest near
> the end of the season.
>   ------------------------------
>
>
>
> * Don't worry too much that the leaves are falling off the trees when
> Autumn comes, keep your mind on other worries, delicately balanced; your
> thoughts far from the tipping point, so that you may tiptoe among the
> daisies and clouds and green grass and never be chased by the giant of your
> drug-enhanced memories of childhood dreams. *
>
> Exercise your eyelashes. Wash your dashboard. Fold your place matts (if
> they may be folded). Keep in touch with negative space. Hold on tightly to
> words squeezed through fine meshed gauzes held aloft by the corpuscles of
> timely endeavours.
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> You can't keep kippers in relenting custodial virtuality, not when they
> snap at your empty potato peelings carrier bag. So you shake the quiet
> timing molecule until it rattles faintly between the first and second hairs
> of your left eyebrow, looking upward and feeling as if you should be
> praying to an unknown and probably non-existant god.
>
>
>
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>



-- 
http://isabelbrison.com

http://tellthemachines.com
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