|Help me become premium! :3|
Because hey, why not?
A World of Oil - Prt 2I wake to evening. I can tell because the temperature is just barely cooler than when I shut down. I was out for around seven hours, twenty-four and half minutes. In the violet green expanse that is my world, I see all the little things that lay about. Shredded aluminum cans, a key or two, bottle caps, torn fabric and nylon, dirt, rubber pellets, bits of cardboard and paper, stones, little plastic toys that a child might find in his or her Happy Meal. And in the corner, a mostly empty tin of Marlboro Tobacco Chew and a beautifully carved, but corroding bronze frame. Within the life-still flowers and browned crown-molding styled artwork is a pane of broken glass, behind which is a photo of a burly, bearded man and a petite girl. From the perspective of a lens that senses low-wave radiation, the image presents itself as solid lime green with only slight variation in pattern making it a greenish version of Van Gogh's Starry Night. But in my deep memory banA World of Oil - Prt 2 by ~JakeClowd
A World of Oil - Prt 1The dark, grimy tar sticks to my claws and apertures as I squirrel my way through the tires. The tires pile high above the filthy dirt. Like pristine mountains of doughnut shaped carbon above a river valley of dystopic earth, the tires are always stable, always giving me perfectly unique landmarks to follow. Well, most of the time. I often see the big-metal-yellow machines bring more in on the outskirts of my home. I stand on my back haunches and look as the machines dump more terrain for me to explore at a future time. My left aperture twitches, and I claw at a particularly stubborn piece of mud. The master comes, a hefty, stale human with a smokers cough that sounds worse than the machines at work. He walks down within my view, without his bifocals he can't see me yet, but it's time to go.A World of Oil - Prt 1 by ~JakeClowd
I lean forward and squeeze into a small space between one tire and the inside of another, and just like that, my world changes. Gone is the smog covered sky and sun and dusty air, and of
Little PrincesFaded photograph speaks to a distracted mindLittle Princes by ~Kitten-Pie
Too often reaching back for the summer haze,
To the kingdom of the long-lost days,
Where innocence and foolishness ran wild.
Moonlight and dust, recall oblivion again
Castle made of comics, magazines
So many dramas played out, so many scenes
Of idle folly: arm your champion with toys.
Where's the spirit's sanctum now?
Scattered as the cartridges and cellophane
Fleeting as a shadow dreamed on window-pane
King, you left the crown for brighter gold.