diary brain

August 13th, 2023 3:44 PM
abatrax carefully observes the light bulbs flickering out over the purple ocean; regenerating bloodied chord changes in her ocular addled hemispherical intelligences. lately she’d grown tired of giving her rotating roster of bandmates subpar head, opting to break up the group and go on caving innocent men's skulls in with baseball bats instead. sinew crackled with electricity and churned delicately to the shore, where fingernails attached to writhing lovers had dug into the white sands. the neural platonic narrative had long gone extinct, and abatrax was shipwrecked on a replicable series of psycho-mystical tangents. this did not appear to bother her very much, seeing as she still had a virtually unlimited supply of rabbits blood to subsist on, tucked away safely in her cellar. she also had a long list of illicit contacts buried deep within her cell phone along with the corruptions of her backup self, including and inducing the mecha-antichrist.

August 16th, 2023 3:56 PM
a bullet blasts out of the barrel of bartholomews ear, severing abatrax’s landline worldwide. chipped off flakes of his fever follow her on an instagram account from the sky, flaunting cobweb gloves and sloppy purple nails that she’d rather mop up than cry. she was an ultra feminine clothesline with so many clothes left out to dry on her that she could hardly fathom it for herself, let alone somebody else. the miming ink pit of her pale skin peeled off of her fingers as she flicked toward the sparkly union on her barely to scale spider screens. “sorry i never actually heard of your band before. i never really cared enough about you to keep up with what you were producing with any consistency,” the latest sent message read “i just jumped from chihuahua pad to chihuahua pad.” abatrax suddenly remembers that she's moderately famous, and starts purposefully scrambling her unenthused sentiments, so as to make them virtually unrenderable by anyone with an emotive fluorescence key.

September 1st, 2023 12:00 PM
swirling rabbit maelstroms separate as they speak oceans of shit, their commentary vapid and unspeakable. they downsize the begonia barriers between the two barbed wire guardians before the eclipse, shouting into stethoscopes just to see her earlier. under her chin she bleeds the number eight and lathers it over her discrepancies, bathing baselessly in the sordid suns. dead trees come alive again, mocking her helpless intestinal wax. at the light she turns right again in a red car riddled with radiated leash veins, indebted deep in your daughters dawn. “a fake restaurant faded out of the sunrise, and you wonder why you’re deader than the days that never passed. the sum of all matrimony unmade sentences like claws into your knees and the soap inside your slap, i said you’ll pretend that you regret it. now you’re pretending that you regret it. i spit on you and only just barely sexually….” vara spams in the backseat. abatrax stands there serendipitously, guilt panging in her chest. “i had a brother once, he was gray, unpleasant and unsightly, so my parents shot him into file storage. this was after my father was resurrected, and everything was really red then. anyway, we were still dealing with all of that when the scarecrows came, talking about our sluggish auras and stuff. so i feel bad but probably not as much as i should.”

September 1st, 2023 12:40 AM
malignant fairy noise blares through the almost moment market. you’re just the average college girl with a gameboy advance sp caffeine high with semicircular circus grunts in your ears of techno-incessant mimicry. fagish and usual. and thats when things start to get a little weird. first, your pregnancy despite your penis appears inseminated in your mind. you give psychic birth to beautified triplets. secondly, the smog in the sky starts sharing your sentiments. thirdly, you awake on the pretty street. instantaneous journeys alarm you before you can even sink to suicide. you ask yourself; am i metaphysically impaired yet? and IS this the future of neon god girl realness? with an explosive melancholy you weave your bones across a velvety width, across this blushing brook. unalterable chambers desecrated with every imperceptible step, you fill the cool winds with your aching remorse. each of the wind's melodies ring absently at your feet. your name is tina mold melt, and you’ve no idea how you’ve gotten here. on this winding street, you arrange a final meal from your backpack. the translucent screen of your glittery green cellphone crackles and hypnotically bends with your married mutant resolve. you already have your children in your mind so the green martyr gas clouding the sun doesnt bother you, even as the sewer strains itself for another look at you. sneaking a sentimental glance at your severe burns, you splash riddles into your inner sanctimony. you consult your city of mind children, and start perceiving green gabber truths blown out on the wall. since your psychic conception of the three initial triplets (tash, dubtape, and reconcile) they started to invent flyswatters to swat at scary girls. these girls were the preconceived children of star food, an embryonic wizard of sectional millipede ecstasy. he’d inserted them into your feeling of getting water in your nose whilst swimming. you always resented him for that, but in this particular instance they may turn out to be something of a blessing in disguise. you grab a wooden magic wand from inside your backpack. your children tell you that to move forward down these roads and make any meaningful progress, first skyscrapers must be erected out from under the pavement, and the moments markets must be fully actualized. you heed the infants and their sorcerous waves, congealing the crisis of yourself as princess. as it turned out, star food sashayed onto your radar with a pustule pound unlike anything you’d ever seen before. he was tracking you with a crude sense of an eye doodled on your essences, which struck you immediately as incandescently aligned.