FWIW I'm also @theangler on Mas[t]odon. CU later.

A cloud of associations extinguishes nostalgia dispensed at cafés, satisfying their craving for deliverance. To use a new language, they pursue faceless targets desperate for news. Now there is nothing left that stirs their #hiraeth for home and the long summer grass. #vss365

Gilded butterflies accompanied by echos of retained appearances in omnibuses and underground railways are visitors from heaven, tiny ornaments of noise ceaselessly arising like dew. The #savvy mirror writer rejoices: ‘“I am” clothed with light and fed with morning manna.’ #vss365

I emerge from distances deeply sprung to write down his name as an accusation: REDACTED (a noted biogenesis #fundi and saxophonist). He should be blamed for buying out many of those cultivated talents and his obsession with mime plays as spectacular diversionary tactics. #vss365

Heavy water is a formula linking spacetime by gravitation with heavier hydrogen, prefigured in the Book of Job: As stars of ponderous #twilight become dark, they look for light, but won’t find it, neither will they see a dawning sky in which the sun has been made black. #vss365

Space exploration and colonization energized a weariness in thickets of surprise inexplicability. Peace and love: counterfactual idées fixes of the sixties. Virtual reality illuminates complications breeding obsessions ending in a #season demanding change of palette. #vss365

Evil bloated elephants listen intently, working synthetically in the world network gnawing at #gaunt quay walls while simulated beings swarm inharmoniously — simultaneously wreaking insane havoc on humanity’s dreams of a future with red kings thrown down in rough weather. #vss365

A man of no fortune or identification accepts a random assignment at the liquidation desk given the tending angel. Events unfold as I contemplate the ancient dragon story to be revealed in the tiny chapters to follow dictated at the Angler #Bar into a tape recorder. #vss365

Why succumb to the prose of childhood when you don’t know what to be scared of? Years later, when he became a real writer, disregard for the already-said caused his fingertips to #burn. But at thirteen one makes impassioned declarations at home in hack romantic novels. #vss365

The Librarian grasps the huge ring handles. His aged muscles strain with effort. In spite of my comparative youth, I am not certain that I would be able to swing them open. I look up to gauge the height of the doors. I reckon that they are at least thirty #meters high. #vss365

Tao Te Ching 75 concludes (in Ursula Le Guin’s rendering) with: “But those who don’t live for the sake of living / are worth more than the wealth seekers.” The poem lists why “the poor” (the working class) are hungry, rebel, and “hold life cheap”... getrevue.co/profile/theangle…

A nurse inquired if I’d seen a man swaggering down the street wearing a bowler hat. Her hands fell open to reveal a Tarot card: Wheel of Fortune or Fool? No, Arcana 17. When the Moon cannot fully #block the Sun we pretend to be shocked by decorous pupils of the occult. #vss365

This is a test: “Come Together” getrevue.co/profile/theangle…

Fordism ensures the green forest depths are reflected as distorted shadows. Even the poor are intoxicated — intoxication and precision divide emotion whirled into rapture for transportation. Shells of people unable to afford cars will dream falsely to #transient music. #vss365

next to the old pond frogs tango to the sound of...

Propelled by sacrifice and distant music from the casino, he transforms himself by returning to his notebooks for #solitude in known arcades, stranded in Gardens of Delights. At times he thinks this is pointless, circular work: the invisible inventions of memory pictures. #vss365

To restore balance to this generative system before complete entropic collapse, predictive calculations showed that the last #band of humans died out by 4001 and gave birth to future humans who would beam signals across the timelines to reshape history in their own image. #vss365

He recalled those endless days of youthful summer. Time was not an arrow shot into oblivion, but a #circuit connecting columns of concentric constellations. He found myriad ways to describe distant crossroads. Now his life balanced between three tangential black stars. #vss365