Black Market Mercurio (part 5)

#imagettin round, waiting to launch pure work in progress that streams in that untouchable quicksilver circulation. aint that life?. Sure i wanna edit perfect madness, yes im covering my asset, but this is a fiction; any resembles to actual folks in this is merely coincidence. Awright.

Nothing is sacred anymore. So, to truly redefine the ever-present reason i started writing..as we flying across pavement, typing while striving.. staring, starving, cuz i want to break through the dead souls, outside, rising,….   The green veil and the smoke stacks exude in live squinted presence of being that shines as if upon the murky brown lake and fishtails of boats at all times, a trees spiderweb window panes bent in abysmal  #itsaaallllgreentome

Dream dream Stream finally bringing Mercurio into here ‘wuddup rude”-“gentleman…” was to get everyone into this. Rudy, Bowen, Garrison, Dulante…Murray Webster. And to capture the truth before it completely vanishes into that veil and the electronic phases converted from physical to mental illnesses believing and waiting for the Easter Bunny or some new miracle drug to kick in…Before my veins turn to foam.  Its just a guy sitting here dreaming writing erupting the 4th wall before its… wussup. My names Elliott but they call me Link… In a story in mighty as ever has been, feels blinking forever through to you my dear reader, thinking god i hope you are…. what did they do to me? Flash! Back to the moment i typed that and they beginning to come find me finding them. we still here though…..? Did the world save me? Did it my dear reader? Nah, I’m bout to save it.  ….Now that’s some golden coin worth of a switch whatasweetrevenge ._. On inverted guesses, that I didn’t read the labels until I had to… And no one notices..right. I can’t stand by and see u destroyed (world.). before my circulation eats itself away and can’t see straight to my thinking; let alone yours behind the unevenly mirrored refractions; lets say – no lets blast! -these fucking disorders. -%%USomataform- fascinations. Let us open the alien museums. The bad thoughts of course sleepless weeks, all ack yuck gagging on candida and negatively brain clot squeeze down the neck when rising and lifting off and out of the way to the _ yea _ tip toeing ley lines to not disturb any or anyone…and to get my point across the imaginary bridges..That physical happening out there. oh blood pressing forward. oh images tubed in thick blots dissipating ways, flush face. burn. sunk into the neck. m’oh boy. Now this switch moons over the break through the sensation in all the silence here…with a great imagining of things while it happening. Saying, if it not on the other side happening/irritating r u trying to figure out why its happening?….It’s all not going to happen like well…._ that’s riht. ok. The longer I go the longer delve thru various mm x Rays/scopes/needling of blood drawn lines bigger in formation than….wait. why hav I had to…if “there’s nothing there.” ——- cuz sometimes ..I swear this drip-rot burn, gurgles upon on the inextricable knot, or hardening sides keep swallowing inside and as days go by….ugh – tired of explaining. Fighting the possibilities. Cuz I said “sometimes”.. and know the fact they are going to say, “well your endoscopy” anxiously choking on ..”.shows me..nothing.”…??. NO. damnit. no. ok guess let’s fucking start from the beginning again today. damn. in time well I assume/know that it was the colored lady, Elsie Maxwell, just so tired she says. “Unable to finish college,” shes 23 and we can see the lethargy emaciated on her face. And instantly i believe shes my soul mate. Shes the first person we meeting face to face, “its such bullshit folks like so sick sad wasted and feeling every day we are dying or overwhelmed with this drag and hollow shouts no one hears and every day is an eternity walking no trudging through the ocean floor.” Oh Radio. “So i had to quit school and forget dreams and finally admit the destiny of my undying undiagnosing god knows what destroting my lives before I ever realized I had one… Turning to D and the ever present black market for relief and something to lift us through our days, “whats truly sad is this generation rage is just emerging and ready to be sculpted into beings more magnificent than roman or greek paintings and stone staues.  But whats most sad is how we are viewed to be whiny and like little agonies, kids… we seem to cry about everything; pains, cramps, aches..” and as she washes her hands in the sink i can see for the first ever what it looks like to watch someone exactly like me and realize i cannot tell the ripping screams of perfect water washing over skin. It sweeps over her palms like screams. She looks fine to me. Holy shit what awful rage in her veins in this fiery moment she had either tamed and or it truly cannot be seen on the outside. “Why do we have to suffer? This America.” The levels of little stuffing, slight studders I hear, her craggly voice I swear she sounds 8o! So u might wonder how i am writing this if I am so damn weak. A heart that had any other mind… Because Radio. Speakers hit the Fan, wicked substances coursing my veins. Mercurio Murray Webster, more the stereotypical mexican Dulante, and me, he sways in, “went right back to Elsie. Glad you guys came back around.”

Black Market Mercurio (part 4)

“I-‘ont wanna hide. I have to yo. U think i want to ..” like an artist or writer, Dulante explains further, “Don’t want to censor myself or conform to the story, nah everyone wants they diary streamin on the page. Well mine asks how would u like to die? Not go home. Not wake tomorrow?” And I spend every day with the feelings of withdrawal, thinking as the exchange exhales of gas fumes and the inexorable exhaust atmosphere sweep us back in and around the unappealing East inside; compacted sidestreet holes, tiny front yards along that network of roads, backdoors emanate stretches from dirty alleys and potholes and like bricks in-between the pavement. This subcity begins so much before us; and quite often these folks will run through the perpetually ancient vapor. Lightly underneath things hide the gaps of teeth, glinting obstacles merge like shortcuts in and around the dirt railroads…squeezing in beaten scraping looks upon me…the drums of hearts getting ahead of me, all vibrating some high pitched accumulation so quick and instant i’m swaying feelings for #icantstandbyyyy_seeyoudestroyed —drum-double pounds like tribal bongs reflecting her thoughts or something— the subcity daylight extracting that no no #weeesodown –but the black lull then come back a second inevitably building again of the magnificent story carrying you through the stained windows into into her resonantly ignited ineffable city edges, upon grassy edges, the driveless ride through sidestreets that catch the (bring it (help me out here Radio)) #seeeeizethetiiihiiiime —right there, “heard the Power Strung Out?” In culminating echoes and high pitched waverings and fuzz, in distortions perfectly loud, mix nothingness of noise that continually lingers on purely strange within, that/this voice endearingly #cuziknoooooooooooooooo  —rolling out things faster and faster as I start thinking all overcome with insignificance and fantasies that never happen of what the means. Yet, as if that needled chills through me, went incredibly within those wonders looking at me, now, as if for the first time; building and drum beat like shot of some sniper; there, in the wiry sagging universe #cuzitsnoworneverbabayeah just let loose at first anticipating as it all sponge, began…And trying to keep up with words and actual writing of the anxious soft glare in this dark dudes eyes, D that I don’t know how but it says perfectly the kingdom tied to meaning and purpose of eww rushing through the initial quiet connection of white and brown men; in the settled earth expecting utopia or the future of whatever was supposed to be a better world for us. As the automatic switch changed the mood, “Ok..?”–“You know. How would you like if there’s no cure? but there is relief, and you cannot have it..?” Everyone wants me to suffer, “can u imagine how that makes ME feel???” Ha! ho. damnit. no. no “don’t get me hung up on the headache. But go intense with me into these spots with a camera…..right?” Cobweb brains mush into thee world and find next to nothing. Leaving me lingering so far behind u world. Always got ur back. Slam! So up we roar to this little elixir and where we should be and where we connect/agree//relate. Doves – pounding Cedar Room. Now this switch moons over D and break through the sensation in all the silence here between him and me…as I cannot believe as I hear with a great imagining of things while it happening, myself saying, “if it not happening/irritating r u trying to figure out why its happening?….it’s all not going to happen like well…._ shoot..bang. just like that; though, when nothing gets rid of ..moreover, though, but not instantly; how much time you gonna spend thinking on it? yea and what I mean is: when u don’t hav one…don’t really even think about it.  right?”–“You dont have to justify to me we doing the right thing, Linkage.” There’s a headaches of sentences Dulante catches within mine drifting, “that if its easy enough to take an aspirin to get rid of an old headache; then for, lets say somataform disorder it could be the same; or fibermyalgia, or bipolars and depressed, or cancer- maybe! hail yea cuz a headache is in the brain..just think it away.. its not in the visions within… its not in the vision so…ok stop. cuz we about to reach the moon.” And I take another cure to elongate the cure… #youcouldbesittingnexttome_andiwouldntknowit

Black Market Mercurio (part 3)

It….was a band named Radio back there in the day busting Frankies, perched peaked and preached about commercial competition but when covers turned over to seem brand new and they told those truths, and lived, accepted, advanced quicker the 20th century as free as we would ever be?..;, Radio launched heads; or should i say minds rip upside down backwards, split [the atom visual] so wake up champ. Champ. Wake up champ… Dulante turn screen into time, turns the swinging slamming creaks from them back screendoor into time the rebellion seemed indefinite but impossible, forced, slammed and obliterated in our mind all at the instant. We roll up dilapidation, beaten homes like we ready to make em gold. Soooo would hav made a different move if had known. Ahead of time. Sure there was a great collision… But what about for them?….. Up there. Out where.. “Dont giv me that shit theia.. aw shit who banged// smashed earth? Elliott Google that,” drip drip drip…instant.

When Radio explained them.. we finally accepted our infinity. When we reached the end before the roads stops….we accepted the heavens surrounding us. Go.To thinking these are simpler times, and the future smears sights at excruciating and grotesque speed too much to consume in this, the primitive period of the universe. Gripped in the probability of winning the lottery; the answers, the terrified  mystery… Quotes novel history. So studies upon lyrics/cliff notes led to the knowledge, and the shrink/zip files. They needs to just flint then spark into the overwhelmed, by and with creative madness; captured yet in that knot the whole universe and true reasoning of the traditional figuring of meant to be.. coincidentally, accidentally, or maybe yes means to be.. as they just knew they were. Meant to be. We were. And so, just the way art can …Let critics apply interpretations, which limit the meanings; but cut, snip that how they eclipse them before the collision…that sent a headful of ideas spread driving insanely sync-type saving raged in the glass city. Shattered in in its truth, opening the origins in the bottle, or in other words, in its forgotten roots, in space swirling spun unto an implosion sending us to the moon…and “oh how do you do all that needling of lines bigger and better in uncovered layers… Wait. My cycles are just spinning. Oh my oh my.” Evolved world Oh glory heed for grace had we evolved..this time leaving every trace. And if we dont let these folks change then they wont. If we don’t let them know what we talking about: Like mighty human skeletons, fossils of radio, those who will never hold the unknown… that’s punk ass fuckin hail- cuz they was brown. But dash-like skinhead punk popped with here we are, the very first civilization ever. We merely began when that short_curcuit it up – trying to stop us… Technologies advance 100 years, beam, bam. Faster. Faster. They ripped into the new century past the end of it all thinking like sheet We the first planet. We all jest startin up here on earth… and right here and now are the ancient times, the dark ages of the galaxy, universe, beyond, them. The ends and wherever they may be…. Dulante shoves a dobe ripping guts to sit on an old sofa. Giants leaping across stages, diving into arms like gods across pods, seeds/planets..too tremendous, spaceships..narrowly heard the attempt at escaping what an incredible dream to believe the magic that we could, or that we had somewhere to go. The bold gift #wewillgrowtoinfinity they screamed; and this lady I meant to introduce, she slipped the gem to us or from them. I cannot tell. But we are the Giants. We created ourselves… Let them develop, in your rage/mind; cuz here they must come. Thanks for living.

Black Market Mercurio (part 2)

SO WHERE WERE WE? oh that’s right … waking and snaking faults as we cross the King bridge and on down into the East side; sifts pass through that veil of visions of methane consumed skies; but to eliminate that, and keep intact, that fishy smearing beautifully Echoes beams bright swelling river-like upon entering into an old village but all flash with blight, with pseudo America pieces scattered ripe as we sneaking the cure, fanning out subcity instantly ancient, aerodynamics accelerate barely by each other, motorized bicycles lazily purring among my kinda place.. maximized with Dulante’s digital tingles, flips open the air, replies swift thumbs and then mingles sweet plucks, strings, “roll a left main at Second” symmetrically grizzles, cornices are only two stories here, the classic wood shed, Frankies, rattles out #yourtheinspiration oh my heavens yes, in a live Emo-like cover in the daylight. Delighting kids in shreds of heavy styles with tough looks so ugly, tattoed, tear drops ever so slick and winking shirtless this tilted side-mouthed sick rips of language. And the oracular tinted glass; the private eyes pass, watching us. Squints, peers, subcity wire sags crook in the short mews, a sort of wasted feeling amidst a futuristically bound signal turning LED legs and leaving messages like leave the belts on, so D strums, “don’t make a-‘legal turn this whole move my dude.” As if we been awaiting all our lives For all the eternity for the scent of them roses we stop supposed to slam the brakes on, like they tick-marks, color pocks in the canvas of an oil painting; we don’t consider traditions, and the discovery of fire, or the passing on of tine like sone new dawn of wonder; oh ho how clever this deal will stamp time once again tho; we continue until astounded readers are wickedly engrossed in such disbelief of a real time and place still hoping to be under zooming cars and flying smooth thoroughfares of wireless avenues, and teleporting among all the magic; these awfully rough folks that will never thrive or morph like power rangers via some prophetic switch into that fantastic realm and sci-fi make believe; the future is fucked and rotten they grumble to ancestors no one else can see along Main St.. Yet, because of this little exchange and discovery we delivering into of all the places in the great states, the awful Holy East of Toledo. No chance right. Well…..This ‘Chicago’ folks;,,,, it’s only vitale enzymes and coolers of insulin and little boxes of everything from saccharine to probiotics that can sustain life anymore. For the benefit of all of man_kind. I must not fail. Check that. WE must not fail. Yet, if merely I think they reading this; the bionic future; alteredbeast ego of this baneful place; well then we did not. So onward we rolling…right….and illegal as shit without showering, feeling no swelling tho or shrinking from any cavities/in orifices/out pores.. Perhaps Chicago already curing the nonsense. Perhaps, but it’s driving me crazy nuts cuz it’s not real. It is not natural. I do not anymore know normalcy. Messing with my head. Or maybe it is; working. Oh the farcical imagination of it all….I just want to touch, drink the elixir of truth. The extended evolution Dulante clears, gone blues, throats, “yee, my dute..right down theer. We up in it now..” Just perfectly brainwashing, his voices waft between swimming and teetering with fearless attitude to ….well how do I explain; see, cuz there’s nothing wrong with us….outside. We look fine; as dark eye-circled and tough as the innercity, youthful; yet in these thoughts that escape his conscience i am considering in my inner operations and all the ensuing to be some invented personality, like does he have to make up hisself?, or is it like an accent? A character he portrays? Well, allergies wiped out on sleeves and snot rocketed, my my uncover the perspective that we hav none: allergies/issues/diagnosis… only…well, shit, only our imagination it seems so screamed inside with believing ANYTHING… As we making our way to turn over theese streets like adjusting publicate without a release. Theres no end and no beginning. Right here. toda!! today. nah, it’s been awaiting, been filtering through the black market for too long. this fancy cure like prohibition … Chicago! That little stretch of classic cocktail mainly like horribly developed via an old frontier town; that myth and historic mutated layout of epidemic, rose and invariably skyline a great looming wherewithal consuming defenses like forcing feeding immune systems with white noise. Bleaching, scrubbing, cleaning and clearing out valuable and naturally produced chemicals. And those born still possessing the full make up discontinued sparing stem cells {our most precious item in stock, guaranteed mmhmm} yes it takes gut, and the pit of them, the pacreas of humanity anymore couldnt thrive with thee overwhelming majority conceived with a malfunctioning the surreal nature of artificially simulating adjust the gut-flora and function interrupting peristaltic wave rhythms

Black Market Mercurio

Here It goes………NOw the ducking rage!! welldamn this phone! OH AND I GUESS THAT I JUST DON’T KNOW but that’s just about right headbanging violent hair LIKE sanguine mentioning of What does it mean (to be) cut from the team? – #thousandcleverlinesunreadonclevernapkins … Maybe.. OR perhaps I’m watching This fierce Jimi Hendrix filming thinking….with rashing cilia…Let me officially introduce to you Folks: the relay of the scene; where he first snares Eric Clapton’s stage and scares the dude disappearing off into sweet absent mirroring to a crowding cat, “holy crap is he that bloody good;” cheeky bastard…lmao—well like emailing myself back and forth with a little United Damnation…these eyes nebulating…got meeself all nibbling nails flowing for fucking up the rhapsody and unravelling truth following uncommon aligning to reinforce all the hearts …… –oh London [seems letting ears loose on the power of love dismantling the love of power; was inaccurate—] …damn .. No seriously, I’m reversing those bemusing scams and searching within hooking up a little bit on the dusting for these withered whims..AND WILL YOU TELL ALL YOUR FRIENDS…..let’s go.—- soft fantastic curiosity always so sneaking close to viral sensations way inside these extended atmospheres assumes the mimicking altered entrance to the plastic access: Instantly reflect accelerated inside corners to that’s right shoves so hype-ripped on the pavement in creasing intertwines careen, my my criss-crossed meterorite through these lensed leaned-in indescribable tunes, tones two dirt-shriveled typhoons burst instantly simultaneous Uncolliding the stars and unwarping crisp massive scattering snares of them beams cast…..Yeah, precisely edging back together rocks rolled with in-between burnt spaces fission with reddened rays crouching into vanishing points swelled into pinhole in pinhole beaten sky and land the spinning theory of one equation …pure mmm utterly furious unleash, unwrapping imagery going hot damn I will love reading to this switch. Then losing it over and over. Right. But Reorienting to the page such a speed to recover the freaking imagining [my ass blasted face down down across the floor and around corners] taking off to simply under the covers; explaining what it’s like to be the befuddled backing into how stories are for Steven. . And posts are for decks. Yet Back into interpretations limiting the meanings; right? That’s what I was going to be ………Amazing. While extending views mixing up oily kernels as im waiting for the man who’s a spLitting image reincarnated I swear of the experience…and like like always myyhead and wondering…..pickin up popcorn oh Clip, crap, readings and just cut to chasing of beautiful poetry. Nah, b like – this my wriggle boggles out of the ordinary; reflecting to my display hits just crowning, smothering this imp. Loading ways of backing into all my hope then bows for thee… running shortcuts to the surroundings, making the real seem impossible and just enhancing Everything In the soft blasting tunnel #thisallwasonlywishfulthinking #hotwednesdays_w//TakingBackSunday. As Youtube connect in nearly unheard whispering…there; as from outside my ride, a new light skies in, this very familiar brown peace, sits behind me. Perhaps into headphones neighboring, wiring clean out of hell caught on tape, spinning, one snip, two clips,, and this tremendous unbundling, curtains fling…“so my dude, move ‘at Chicago to the East??”…. slacked eyes exactly within three seconds beyond speakers’ scribble…, “Let’s Go-oh”, just eclipses every other reaction; revs the dribbling…..