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Before you read this, you need to know how i created it. You see, Jeff Noon is a genius and has invented a way of writing called Cobralingus that's based on music, remixing of music in particular. Baisicially, you start with an exsisting piece, and then you put it through various filters like Explode, Sample, and Mix. This one started as a piece from Jeff Noon's Pollen on page 113 and AFIs This Celluiod Dream was Sampled in. I don't really know how I feel about it yet, but here it is anyway. |
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Feed me�.. I craved a soul as perfect as his but I was bathed in tears falling from deep inside. In his radiance I dwelt forever and never. Be mine�. �Feed me your mind, breed, let me consume all that you are and fill this hole.� �Shadows are not for love,� he said. Both of us were in the shadows beneath the magnolia, where we bruised and crushed those dreamy flowers, releasing their fecundly sweet fragrance to penetrate our thoughts.
He was all midnight eyes of transparency, always pleading with the shadows that he was real, that he was alive. �You are not for love,� he said, �This is not supposed to be.� His was a fascination with the darkest places, he knew that garden of reveries, where the amaranth hid. Did this ever really exist, or was it deeper? Thoughts teemed and spilled over their rim, their waves rocked us exquisitely, melting, dissolving, washing away everything but us. The beauty of the garden swayed out of focus, twisting my perception of the dreams far too lovely to remember. This fall is dark and empty once the motion stops. �Always dead return to me,� he whispered, feeding me flowers, hours, they twisted. |
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