Of The Jungle Their Eyes Swollen

Mongols blink in smokey doors, as frightened as the first. Faces blank go in, long sheltering and took fright.
Of the jungle their eyes swollen.

Their faces blank with a cluster of grains to a baby planet. Dust grains formed larger clumps, endlessly bumped or recombined in every encounter. Winners, they travelled. The drove together. Every now and then the Chinese dominate the orbit around which they travelled. A great swirl of clouds –the interstellar medium, and houses of adobe, stone and red mass of the solar system. Couples on rows of brass beds, junkies typing up for a shot, people eating talking bathing. Hipsters.
Of the jungle their eyes swollen.

Expeditions leave. For the next 500 man had no objection. Junkies junk twisting. He took fright and said to his comrades “that’s the second,” and the second – a lunatic in such and such a village and would be sure to be pelted relent galactic debris. It all happened remarkably. “Poor Crabbe!” he cried out. Out of his mouth and looks at that swirl of gas and dust, copper-coloured faces lounge in d’accumulated in space-gold chains. Their faces blank.
Of the jungle their eyes swollen.

With perilous partitions built on feet – about 4.4 houses of sod – high size of Mars crashed into ways – houses of bamboo material to form a comped brick, South Pacific and weeks, it is thought, the river boats, wood houses one into a single me. “Poor Crabbe!” he cried out. Come of the money. He signalled to the doctor. Of a thousand hammocks, subject to constant bombardment from all the debris that remained floating about. The Chinese and the City are joined. To say how much the doctor actually knew...youth to an old man or become what nudged. There are higher stakes than youth. Dusty windy gaming tables where the games are played for incredible stakes. All right. We’re in trouble.
Of the jungle their eyes swollen.

At that, the fifth servant crawled into the stove, floating material and within a year blowing out enough through open doors. Now I will look in my book and find his ABC Moon. Come outside for a minute. So the nobleman for unknown places with age, drove to the villa. Strangers arrive on rafts of old; asked “Are you Dr. Know-it-all?” Rotten rope, they stagger in out of and find the money that was shut from insect bites. The nobleman had no objection. Outskirts. All houses in the City are joined. Mountain Mongols blink in smoke and teak, houses of adobe, stoppening. Col Maori houses, houses in trumps. Eventually hundred feet long sheltered planetesimals. A corrugated iron where they fractured or canned heat, great om permutations. But I air from swampnner, and some of the multi-levelled plominate the orbit around.

When he met them outside, all four servants confessed cracked bleeding feet through the dusty wind. Hand it over, and give hi where people defecate in rows along adobnyone who had taken fight over fish heads. They drop down. Iney led him to the plac parachutes... They are escorted by a drunk, good enough for the doctor. The third, from time to time a player with a despairing cry, fared no better. Make the sun. The servant was frightened to death. Floating - lost his youth to an old man.

What we think we know is this:

Them

of the jungle their eyes swollen.

To do list

Full of things I write on simply to be able to cross them off.

I'll now add on 'do blog entry'.
And cross it off.

May

I've been in love now for roughly a year.

Stop trying to have your summer now!
Work.

Followed a girl around with your perfume today.
Weird for everyone involved. The three of us.

Trying to get back into the swing of things

At the mo' all I can do is list.

- The irony of Organ Fight being a break-up album.
- Trying my best all. the. time. to do stuff with people, and not be alone with my wandering head.
- Scouting For Girls are kind of special to me, in terms of the feeling I felt back then, on those nights in the woods. As much as I want that feeling again, the opportunity for it to be with someone I 'know' and who knows me is falling apart. Do I try to make the most of it, or just let it go?

Stop being afraid to step no further than what has come before. Safe past-tense.

Maybe it fits now. Explore it, but dont make it your whole thing.

Sorry for not bloggin'.

I just dont like analysing anymore.
It is what it is.