Flowings of Your Everlasting Taffyman

Sometimes it's good to digress a little go inside a bit, but when the walls start tapping their fingers in irregular and ever-changing rhetoric aimed at you and your heartstrings, well then I think its best boy to just leave it be, turn on the lights man!

(ok so the night's short madness session, as best as I can type up whatever the hell it is I was saying, I know this first part has something to do with the storm and the fight against the taliban in Afghanistan, anything like this means Im guessing at a word, I will explain how/when I started doing this sort of thing later)

I
And in that brief unquiet but natural moment of solitude, amongst candle and lightning, unending adrenaline drops of redistributing spring water, attacking, attacking, leaf and tile and carved and uncarved wood, deck and cement, never penetrating never satisfied recollected like the annual tax only much more often ever sooner than the last
molded to a new group "the new legion awaits you son!! REDISTRIBUTE!!"
cracks like the earthquakes dividing the sky BOOM! BOOM! artillery all around us in the distance ever approaching machine gun rattles "how many were taken?!!"
"we count 5 bodies sir"
"Too bad I'd hoped this lot would be the last. REDISTRIBUTE!"
II
plaid shirts and overalls undercovering insomniacs in all their brutal forms. Shift the weight that pine can handle more, crack, split, who guesses? sirens in the distance. undercover babystrollers parked along great expanse 7 lane highways no shoulder, covered by the navy Blue uniform shirt shoes meek service, insatiable appetites supressed repressed and pressed again no use in a shirt being worn-out and old no use in its own ignorance as a form of supression
The impression I get is that he wants to take the drugs "see what will happen."
Scattered amongst broken dreams parts of airplanes still flying fragmented scattered through the air the shrapnel of old wars forgotten or untold.
"this cats got vigor I can feel it"
feel it you havent felt a thing in 2 long years whats the difference anyway your pawns play the role quite well in your absence
"who sent you!"
the truth sent me smoldering in a shes (possibly ashes, but doesnt look like it)
fulfilling prophesized discribuination foil wars/wals/wahs
too many candles!
This one cant speak for all "NO SUMMIT!!!"
no submission to new wills we havent gotten to know them yet you know?"
III
this is not a proper learning environment not permitted not instructed
not in check with the attitudes we've already granted. Its in use its already taken the line is long and we havent developed the patience,
not like the other crops the wheat is tall and golden and stetches from here to Cambodia under your discretion but its not ripe and cant be tested until fall or spring of the next year
IV
"in his courage he forgot about yoga."
Do you hear its brutal sound echoing chotling his dull affection interrogata(ion?) thai trees they will at least give you laughter bored with pennies shinyness never was an option too perfect too easily Tarnishus(ed?)
in its sad unanimity this one takes the cake the hive is too well oiled to pinned down to out of phase/place with its own ineffaction
V (my favorite part just cuz i dont know who or what Sangtr means/is)
I Sangtr hear the willows plead beg at their knees(vknies?) and watch in summers storm bring down the winter, haze knows no laughter as lightning and thunder drifts of snow eased their way up the dirty sidewalk and planted themselves in a black shiny mailbox
pollen specked and proofed like cocaine cut and cut and still the skin remains too tired and old and bragged out stories still show their inerptiturze you arm hurts the veins broken
Splinters in Splinters out dragged about and placed in front of a vacuum a lawnmower of some sort that took down a few of the lucky broads with it. still it chased us until we were stalled by our vehicle and backed it into the building save a few lucky onlookers, just looking...
VI
to think of the hours we spent in front of sad computer monitors, monitoring our every move as if once we placed a foot outside that sad circle off the chair we'd go never turning back,
Solace in Solitude too affront to embrace it, I made(nude) my way east with a shallow grin on my face, trails of old lucky to be told what to do long broken, some speak of Senile-ty
I speak to the trackers and trailers sneaking out of the dark thinking I dont see them all the while directing their visions straight toward me
some ask why Im afraid of the dark(thuudarz)
I say only, "these fucker mean business" ( may be from fear and loathing cant remember, anyway I was kinda scared so it popped into my head)

I remember a cold solidday
when something crept up on me and I let it in
it was too cold, too cold to contribute then, but in the summer months thawed and wound confusion on me

wrapped up then unknowing and bound by visible ropes like spiders netting I told you they were deviant even now hiding among potato bags and blue couch cushions

the one under the table is contemplating sticking me but knows if he did this he'd give away his position and cant think of a single place in his reach of mortal infliction(inflicting)

This is racked opposite of mate on me left who has some sort of fishing(fighting) equipment and looks like an 1800s or new england Sailor
VII
back to the remedies the doctor seems to want to prepare intoxication number 1: would leave untold numbness and possibly future depression number 2: dreams of madness and number 3: Euphorific incantation to be told of at a later date somewhere in the town of november, just to be ssure maybe I should grab a knife, battles with peace and passivity,
VIII
Still the freezer doors stood open if fallout goodness screaming and chanting like Catholics of old verses(curses) in latin, Satan supression DEMONS dont seem to visort(visit)
much anymore anymore more more more more more more more more(marc mare mork)
he looks away in quiet jest
approval of what Im doing not not be granted little man.
IX (all this was written very large)
Still the days of loving were filled much more and days(dans) of longing seem lesssssssss discriminant but maybe more

A-L-C-O-H-O-L Everyone else(velee) does it just a little(litfledslt)

X
His maddening hands lay everwhere
caressing Kitchen instruments sage brush flower pots bouncing off walls and leaping through the air right above my eyeline
I can(am) hear his whispers groans of endorsement saddened by the lightening also he sits down and pours hwoself(himself) a drink quiet disenergration