A person who makes the weather, someone called bird of the ill weather. Person who has bad karma or just bad attitude towards life and brings it on everybody like weather. How affected are we and yet not, staying unaware and needy, makers of change. To use weather as a verb that makes us and makes us make, the ultimate moulder of earth and how we make our living. The more exited we get the more we produce carbon dioxide, Spiritus Sylvestre, wild spirit.
Fast breathing, sweating and steaming, climate at high altitude is thin, thin air. Precipitation phenomena of accelerators, Oscillations, Nervousness ineluctable looming up irrepressible presence and parchment almost completely scattered in a moment. Intolerable desire and urge to continue.
Speed of change, speed of time, there is a time capsule in change, my time in every moment. I have no time. Waiting it to happen, saying, phrasing what it is one wants to change. Framing to tell we have no other alternative. It is settling and alarming at the same time, maybe an effort to find crystallised, a meaning and explanation of what happens, what might happen and why. Timing, what happens with timing, in time, in waiting, in lining up, in hurry, in speed which media and civilization bring to our lives. Speed of pictures, speed of events, speed of a runner, speed of a shutter, speed of changing clothes. Speeding, measuring, comparing, working, staying put.
Blue-haired Grand petite called Salvador Nebula. I don’t know who he is.
Horses fucking on a yard. They steam. Bear bare le jardin.
I will be back as soon as I can. I can’t stand to watch.
ambiguous and nefarious dissent that is who he is, someone
yelled on the phone, delusional.