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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
river sylvan's LiveJournal:
| Wednesday, March 20th, 2002 | |
| 4:40 pm | female - the green oxygen sun from which each world breathes. the moist sensuous soil caressing infant forests in their gasping touch of new-life. the smooth glossy rocks where child corals cling. her red spring growth gushing gooey galaxies in warm soft wombs. she is the seed that sprang and illuminated even dark deserts to bloom. she is the ripe glowing pool from which all life began. (all my powers of expression and thoughts so sublime could never do you justice in reason or rhyme) and where was male in our first moment? |
| Monday, March 18th, 2002 | |
| 8:54 pm | in the seed, we are decaying cotyledons completely unaware of the ripe soil that nourishes the growth of our womb tissue. |
| Tuesday, March 12th, 2002 | |
| 11:13 pm | foamy slime rocks slip inside warm wood rivers. they breathe with smooth gill glow gasps. their eyes are marsupial grooves grabbing rare unstructured energy rapids. movement is an unseen mud gust of thin soft scale clouds. in time, shells smoothen and gain colors of blended night. look closely and you will see suns pouring lava through hot wet flowers, bending purple winters in the water. sticky sections divide each squirming specimen in their webby river worlds. coated shield glares puncture floating depths of oxygen cell eyes. nourishing unbroken pools of green sleep. that twist and convulse with gentle jungle movements. stinging moons collapse and wrinkled horse flows dive under the fruit particle wind surface. where life was squished from seeds and the first sun was born. |
| Thursday, March 7th, 2002 | |
| 1:23 am | the Earth is still engulfed in an ice age |
| Monday, March 4th, 2002 | |
| 12:13 am | the entire world is aquatic liquid is just more obvious then air |
| Wednesday, February 27th, 2002 | |
| 1:01 am | the physical and mental city (the severed mound) the city is born - a bubble, a circle, wrapping all the senses inside. life for plastic papers. the web expands. insects sticking. what's the chance for survival, when entertainment is death? the Earth on a city pyre. concrete warmth. embers abound. enclosed in a tomb. and the city is born. watch how we flock there, our frozen stampede. watch how we slave. grinding stones in the corner for the feast in our grave. crisp in the morning, barbecued shade. violent world of windows. sun dance in the rain. what's the chance for survival? (the mental) let's make the adventures ours again. forget the plastic heroes. unstick ourselves from moldy seats and dust away the past. occupants of stale vision corrode inside the glare. eyes at our fingers. fangs in the screen. cinema vein temptations. our bodies never even move. two neon glows hypnotize the spectators: 1. illumination of the premises. 2. the entertainment of the moment. docile movement dancers. their screen god of pixels. distant illusions of ages dead. artificial in pale laughter. puppets highlighting celebrity moons. craterless, without past or present. always groaning in trapped system machines. crumbled eyeliners of ripped blankets and beds. watch their eyes squirm in the spraying swamp of putrid images. you people of the couch and car seats. you warriors of the remote; choose now your drug of sedation. your rubber experiences in radio forests. the human being has been mutated: what was once an expanding consciousness slicing through space is now simply a pair of eyes lips and twitching hands aging in a box. what's the chance for survival? all modern day human entertainment revolves around circles and lines and actors and spectators one form involves focus on a stationary screen of some kind. television, books, cinema, paintings, concerts. an object of reverence and attention is chosen. all senses are funneled toward the center of this social comedian - this single point in space. a line transfers from the actor to the spectator. usually sight and hearing - audio/visual - are the only senses consumed. the static screen is preferred to the expanding Universe. the screen is used as a filter of perception. the second form is a more inter- active medium. existence is pulled-out from the 'participant', as opposed to being pushed-in. this entertainment usually takes form as conversation, debate and other verbally based communication. here again, everything is essentially drawn into a single point of focus. and audio/visual are the only called upon senses. lines are formed and the 'screen' is still used to attract attention. advantage: entertainment is always preformed live. these forms of art require an actor and a spectator, in order to be. both essentially form bubbles that pull the senses, mind and perspective of each 'individual' down to this pulsating circle. this circle becomes a psychological structure - a mental city - usually inhabiting in a physical city. only single bits of information are understood at any given time. several minds experience the same existence. 'individuals' become crowds, masses and audiences. the goal of the lords here is to capture us in a prison. to show us only what they chose to show us. to keep us from peaking above the wall. also, to merge us into clumps and herds. to limit our understanding into one uniformed class. grouping us together into one culture makes us easier to control and manipulate. this circle mentally tames us into structure. (the physical) the city - a spreading cancer heart that the asphalt veins drive each cell toward. it is a forest crumbled. an ocean sprayed over. soil crusted across iron faces. bone waves of sizzling glare, stuck in fence caught islands. fast drilled army marches. step stairs of destruction. the stars, ripped from our tarp sky. boiled water in rainbows just smearing the color until only black bleeds out and is lost. it is life that is the color on this canvas. existence is a metamorphosis. life is diversity. the city is extinction. where we play our lonely games. |
| Tuesday, February 19th, 2002 | |
| 7:02 pm | when did you forget the feeling of your birth? |
| Tuesday, February 12th, 2002 | |
| 10:02 pm | things ive learned in the last few days: 1. 'writer's block' is only frustrating when you actually want to write something. 2. i want to be eaten alive by komodo dragons. 3. 'lord of the rings' is a very goodly written book. 4. i want to live with elves. 5. i dont respond well to critisism 6. i dont respond well to compliments. 7. i dont actually want to write anymore, but feel a strange responsibility to do so. 8. 'mississippi' is Dylan's best song since the 'blood on the tracks' album and this includes 'not dark yet'. 9. my heart only beats 34 times a minute on average, which is only about half of what is considered normal. 10. really small dogs annoy me. and i feel sorry them and all other dogs that have been breed for our needs. so...i feel sorry for every dog. 11. tigers are almost as cool as black panthers. 12. i want to be eaten alive by fruit bats. 13. i have a very strange fascination with being eaten alive. 14. the piano is insanely fun to play. |
| Thursday, January 31st, 2002 | |
| 11:58 pm | wolves - forest suns of swift corona. illuminating worlds in howls of energy. smeared on moons to light even the night. tissue soft eyes connecting each other. tongue web stares in a moment of union. gripping planets to suns and moons to the planets. they reveal a universe in a single move- ment of muscle. |
| Friday, January 25th, 2002 | |
| 1:17 am | when the raided Earth unwrinkles these ropes and Her muscles pour soil through steel Her venom soft fingers rip wombs through the sullen cities and bleed forests in wet rushes on the mounds of stacked skins warm breath and lungs expand in blue wind pushing this life-try deeper in jungle gallops grabbing moist vines to swing faster birth pushes steel liquid river wrinkles the muscles snap resistance and we sink |
| Sunday, January 20th, 2002 | |
| 11:23 pm | lets flood the Earth in philtre forests dancing dryad bodies rains bleeding a sexual warmth winds of frozen muscle touch lets slip through galaxies and slide on novas kiss the nebula suckling suns sylvan creature ooze of rivers lets breathe with lungs that grab the earthen air in green leopards stalk the night beside us cobras coil and hiss beneath us death and birth at any moment life at every glance |
| Thursday, January 17th, 2002 | |
| 1:31 am | damp fecund caves fossil peel flesh swarming bubble mushrooms bloom to moisture petal pools fruit blood roots bending forward venom flowing fangs breathing stalking mucous moss on tongues rain groove talons lichen fingers growing hunting seeds womb sack fluid swimming pollen thorny membrane frost pouches claws cells exposed to all who seek them spreading through the suns amphibian creatures gooey sticky groping for the sky |
| Tuesday, January 8th, 2002 | |
| 9:48 pm | we contribute to a culture that drove over 30,000 species to extinction last year alone. each living being is a cell. these cells come together into an ecosystem that is an organ. these organs come together to form one single growing entity. these entities come together to form..... this journal is now extinct. |
| Saturday, January 5th, 2002 | |
| 12:44 pm | i havent been writing much lately. instead ive been drawing abstract forms of animals and forests and ancient peoples hunting and odd geometerical shapes. it's actually quite a bit more fun. i just wish i had a cave to draw all of them in without having to walk half a mile down to the creek. as it is hard to do that at night. i miss the old days when we made cave art everyday. it was fun. does anyone want to go live in the cave with me? |
| Friday, January 4th, 2002 | |
| 1:27 am | in its Mother's womb, the nurse shark cannibalizes its brothers and sisters until it is the only one remaining to be born. |
| Wednesday, January 2nd, 2002 | |
| 11:53 pm | here we stand, staring at a mirror while in a glade of galaxies. as nebula holds the moment still. slow-motion womb of suns. |
| Sunday, December 30th, 2001 | |
| 1:42 pm | i see a culture whose disease is so spread with infection that even the few who claim to be immune still feast on the parasitic corpse of their kill. |
| Saturday, December 29th, 2001 | |
| 11:57 am | imagine a bed of squishy ferns, spongy trees and furry moss. imagine sheets of suns sticking vines through clouds. imagine the taste of skin unfolding across your bodies and fingers melting together as lava licked oceans. imagine a pillow of mushroom rocks that embraces you with roots of coral sand. imagine a soft island breeze engulfing you in smooth muscle bark. imagine sinking into soily earthen eyes and kissing with a moon of green lung lips. now imagine that this is where we awoke, at the blue birth of our beginning. we liked the way you kissed |
| 12:39 am | praying mantids - winged leaf ninjas of ambush. armed with spiny thorn fingers. eyes of soft thread touch. compound arsenals with colored defense. attacking and evaporating into mist. |
| Friday, December 28th, 2001 | |
| 7:57 pm | vultures - cleansing water tides. soaring shower scouts on thermal gushes. washing bone to soil. they mold jungles from desert rocks. eating even the smoke of abandoned fires. purring stomachs of recycled life. |