6.8.19

2000 year forecast

-->
and here is the corefast for the next 2000 years for planet whomyn : unstable conditions with isolated activity will continue to develop in the cognitive forest later this century into the next millennium. a warm front currently developing over the polypolars will approach the borders in some crepuscular downdrafts and generate more horrors and lesions in the far zones in widespread blackness. crossover conditions may continue in the tectonic interior depths for the next couple of inconsequentialities

on many days, a strong flow aloft will drive the front into the slave area by late confusions. noise and cogs or vague regurgitation will continue in most zones with indices falling to below and sensations shifting behind the front. light and reeking disturbances will continue south of the front with max fission of low-mid acedia along with moderate to high bmi values and widely scattered spreads and dominations developing. slopes will see higher breakdowns with strong crossover conditions developing as min values lower to be near 0%. opioids in the southern slopes will remain elevated and dsm uptrend continues, but will see little change or some downtrend elsewhere in the voids

outlook for someday : the hot front will be moving south into the zones with more horror and indolent activity along its path. mainly near epochal disturbances in the range of 18-961 can be expected in behind the front, but will stay more stable near 24-267 ahead of the front in the slopes. heavy plasma with moderate to high stupidities of 30-50% are forecast in most zones and slopes and voids. elements of 200-250 ahead of the front may occur in the slopes but shift to 500 in the wakes. low cognitions of 10-15% in the prosthetics may still be expected ahead of fronts but will regress in the floods after the front passes near the disintegrating borders. little change or slight downtrend of values can be expected in all zones

outlook for anyday : a new upper disturbance and new scorching fronts will be moving into flesh late in the dreams with more unsettled disintegrations developing. generally near or slightly above lunacies are forecast in most zones. moderate to strong with high vacancies can be expected along behind and in front of the front with occasional areolae pubis minora symphysis expected. but light paramesonephric fundi with low to nil values elsewhere are anticipated. value aroundtrend is forecast to continue in all voids, otherwise little range or no trend

meteorologist : inget argot ingot engott

even though you won’t believe me
my story is beautiful
and the serpent that sang it
sang it from out of the well

the do know effigies




and i don’t call these dialevart logs the do know effigies in dishonour of real key’s irreal riddles
i do not call

time ticks she says it ticks like lyme disease in a grandma clock of my chiming aspirations. we see them in but we never see them enter and they work like parapazzis in a culture abattoir

and i wonder who is this she that says i say i know the unmitigates in nadagate wear their nadapants like fritillaria or fritillaries (the sessile and mobile are always poking their panties in terraria they’re not supposed to) but what i don’t know is whether my psychogeometries aren’t holding their kilter

here’s the riddle of the day she says how is the human ego like a whomyn waffle and when when clouds the dentures of the sky fall out do you take them to the dentist?

i say i say to doktor gugel-hüphendortz why? why are the clouds leaving the mouth of the sky? and doktor gugel-hüphendortz says oh i sadoo the sky is a gummy maw and it does not chew but chewing is given to the gugel-hüphendortzes

i remember the counting she says the glue right wean bed freedom of inlaceration, what numbers do to the maps when the calendar’s run away to make bear pizza. climb with me my bastard love onto the willywisps of the recurvirostra tree and remember too with me what i remember

how lovely on the butane
are the meat of them
who ping rude booze
sentencing geese
disclaiming queues of soapiness
sour fraud claims dour odd aims

we sing the tunes she says we sing them without meaning meaning. when i boarded the encaustic recently and it didn’t know the temperature i told a conductor i’d like it to take me to the rare mettle mines of magnolia and make me into meat but where would be the gluten?

who hasn’t been to northern thailand?
and who hasn’t climbed the steps?
only you of a puerile fart and a loathsome dung
who doesn't bare false blogs or watch humanican idol

but i hear it coming and it sounds like vegan cheese
and the brain is abating and this dialevart’s done

4.8.19

in a money youth white human neurotypical technology male name cis exotatic supremacist culture how does one eat one’s marinated tofu?

trains are dribbling down my face like echidna enchiladas and his hair hangs seeming to the thonged throngs who drink from the callous chalice in raucous exaltation from chilled craniums in celluloid sexuality and mothlit metaphor that just pharmaceuticals hold the gavel of the hanging

i look at her and can’t believe she’s not saying i’m not one of those fake anthromonogists who goes in with nothing on but the maille of credentials but an anthropolygist, a many going in with an appearance of insiders

a strong man she says a poutine of the boot a pinxing of the sickle a rump of the dump a bray of the tsoris a tussleini of white linguini is what we need to leap before the look yet what jumps before the brain is not this but those who overdose from microdosing the rains of the litter the runts of bitters, not the nalia of margarinia or the utter of gutters but the non compost mantis of the coca, the rounddown of the sated glyph

it is hard. it is hard like justice without its just. and cold. the gods of nothing giggle on their stylites, these fakirs of Eternal Merdia on the beach of their vertigo. we die like ytterbium, babies of knowledge, teratogens of the earth       

he is like she says was she says like a pataphor in a cafeteria playing chess with confessing dragonflies on a medieval beach. he lives as the dead do, enlarging. neither an outdividual nor an unter an uber and hardly an in he clung (or clings or will - oh caps and malendars!) to prypositions like one of those rafts you see in hallucinogenic ridere risus that we irrisorize, push over earth’s jagged aged edge like a polypsych

and i wonder if her encomium is just baked laudanum, a societal sweet we tweet as dessert with neither precursor nor nutrient and we are left unfilled like souls at a table of a great unbanquet where banquo’s burnt toast spreads over our jam like honeybees and who are we to tell a story of any ends?

you’re full of alice and malice she says mallets and millets and those metamorphosizing argots of the very catholic order diphtheria. who would want disorder by their homes? and who would take the unity that isn’t inside like a what’s it like to be a brat? i’m full of questions of the text and my sex rises like elohim on spacecrafts of doomed wonder

and i can’t tell whether she speaks of me or the keyboard talking on my shoulder like a djinn high on history and i think of asking her but what would be the use in these communicative times? i say the rocket achery hurts my axes, pocket vituperators pain my nidi like a flying violence of masses and asses. and who talks? who among the haruspicina would talk before the angel in qiryath chutsoth?