Johnhns - To Be It Has Nice is available to purchase please email email@example.com
That’s where he said he came from, I wondered at this as a possibility. It occupied a dream, an escape from gravity's night with celestial shift into some cosmic situation.
I genderise, "he" is used speculatively, despite the female shapes suggesting sweet scent adding flesh and contrast to stick drawings I guessed to be self portraits in an Instagram account known as @johnhns, Maybe living on Solaris puts such physical demands upon a form, effectual environments where jointless limbs with breakable tendencies can angle a hollowed out body.
The routine of Instagram postings seem to collude with motifs of planet Earth into a secret. Signals to the others in convertous warnings on the state of things here? But who were these others and why so many clear swimming pools on warm afternoons tinted with primary colours? Is that real diamonds in those earrings?
“I was just thinking, to be it has nice,”
a hiccuped poem in scrambled sentiments for us click - here users. Blue splash, black square, a speck of dust magnified and repeated again and again near empty rooms.
Lit cigarette fingers dried in blood, comes free with eggshell green on 9 likes Monday, is that what it's like up there on that milky globe? Why are two dots inside a tin of white paint, their edible textures make the poisonous look organic? There's so much deceit in semaphore, that seem to show not how or where is the way. Street signs, ground control, screens to watch a world through, binary codes slack to the hardness in dark lines.
I don't know @johnhns, Solaris doesn't exist and maybe this is logged as wasted time, minutes into hours of electric lights raining pictures from clouded skies for me and a billion other viewers.
“Is what you see what I see?”
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