The Surrealist / Stream of Thought writing Thread

Are you high? That is not brilliant. I can churn that shit out with 3/4 of my brain turned off. Just write a sentence and then follow it with a thought loosely connected to any noun in the previous sentence!
 
fuck, the internet's too hard... sometimes when i'm sitting down for a long time i get really hard... why is the buddha always sitting, never standing? (skip) i wonder if uranium ever actually turns green... i need to get a few potted plants for this apartment to make it a little greener... pot... pot... pot... ...
 
You try too hard here gravyman. You should just copy and paste what you say to me on AIM and post it here. o_O :p
 
I divide the slope. I do not know why, it just came to me. Brimming with teapots, the forsaken glimmer of hopelessness pushed me in that direction. I really must apologize. I was acting in unison, entirely uninfluenced by the smoking mist. But you must understand, painstaking wallflowers went into this equation. The ramping up of shattered skulls and the decline of the earthworm's vision made it nearly inexorable. So what you essentially have is half of the bloody stumps on one side, and a troll's hat on the other. Truly binding.
 
Epically bumping this thread from the dead for this piece of horseshit:

Struggling to remove a Charleston Chew from it's wrapper, wondering what the hell happend to this place. This basement used to be bright and dusty, now it's just dark and lonely. Everything's been re-arranged and nothing's where it should be, and theres only one light that swings from the ceiling. Outside I hear obnoxous laughter. Must be a real happening party. I hear Linda Hammilton's voice, she excalims, "I've got the governor on speed dial. 464-442-4624 if he wants to talk to the governor." They all start to file in, perfectly inconvenient, gathering around a lone trash can. They expect me to entertain them like it was 2005. It's not like that anymore. Life happens. All the jokes have been told and all the impressions have been done. Leave me alone. That Charleston Chew tastes pretty good right now. Momentay heaven. Linda tells me I need medical insurance. "I know", I sighed. "It's a big decision. Don't make one just because the TV says so. Only you can make that choise". The neighbors kids are setting up shop using their makeshift bunks. I explain the dilema to my cousin, morosely, slumped down Indian style on a pile of splintered paint sticks. Defeated.
 
I am a iams apple.
I am a rocking chair waving on the ground.

(i'm over there.)

Folly not, fault none
You must remember but this one:
Basically or otherwise...

You are the dogshit.
 
The key to being entranced in a ritual is sleep.

Chant ...

Chant ...

Chant ...

Noise ...

Noise ...

Noise ...

Sleep ...

Within this sleep, ritualistic chants become intertwined with the dreams in a pleasant, "enjoyable bad trip" kind of way. Sounds become images. The droning keeps going on, and on, and on, and on, and on, affecting the images, hence affecting the dream itself.
 
Five years of inhaling lead paint and various forms of shit and everything is as it should be. Every once in a while a curve ball is thrown, usually nothing major. Last year was the exception. Ask a curious question and you get bombarded with overbearing verbal displays of precision correctness, such as properly operating a thermostat, or Superman setting a mouse trap. The feeling of uneasiness is just as good as an admission. There's always the quaterly exchange of meaningless friendly "Hello's". I get it. Perhaps calmness is possible?
 
So I'm tired of everyone on this forum sucking Laura's cock like she's some goddamn definition of a universal goddess covered in cum and sprinkles chewing licorice sticks like there's no tomorrow like basically there won't be seeing as the Aztecs are fed up with the Mayans jonesin' for domination in the end-of-the-world-business-shenaningans and I'm truly not digging the current White House administration but then again I was never a fan of figureheads or them dolls with bobbing heads also I wonder what Obama is going to give his wife this Christmas maybe fifteen minutes of his time without any leprechauns damn them leprechauns dat ass eat all the asses!
 
Nine housekeeping sisters in matching blue V-necks and black pants for fifteen rooms and none heard the door when the package arrived. I opened it anyway. A nice gesture, what better way for someone to see their property (pure nosiness). Your sleeping doppelganger looks more than appetizing at the moment. I'd fucking devour it whole, minus the denim, of course if it wern't for the audiance. So much for daydreaming. "Where the fuck is it?!" "I thought I was doing you a favor. What about your big toes, large legs and huge ass?" "I HATE THEM! I NEED THAT BOOK!" A frowned upon tension. Back to work.
 
And then Teresa came along and said "so I heard you like bunyips", but he did not like bunyips. He liked mice, but the mice never liked him. They conspired against him. All the mice in the world. The mice, those bitches, they get drunk in bars, and fornicate with the Batman !
 
Spaghettios and Christmas snacks, throughout the halls of london. Faggot rats, and hermaphrodite cats living in a walrus. I found a walls of onion bat. She was awesome. She chirped like a cricket upon the horizon. But that was before the arrival of the fruit cat. An evil hipster cat that is a vegetarian. The bastard took my pet. But I will rub mustard in his eyes! The really spicy Chinese kind! Not the shit you put on hot dogs. His eyes will burn like the bowels of hell. And then I shall have my revenge.
 
Crooked gazes into falsely accused reflected optical illusions
reveal a permanent gunslinger stance
Constantly forming half-diamonds with fingers
and crescents that are dangerously close to becoming full circles
Compare and contrast
Actions dictated by a militaristic mantra
Proceding with caution
A lose/lose situation
no matter the course of action
Voluntary, yet unintended
Saying nothing
Avoiding the inevitable "I told you so's"
made even more bitter when considering the source
Hastened reset attempts
Things are viewed differently with your clothes on
 
Choo choo trains in department wax. Bone marrow giant spider named Louie attacks. His breath is strong like a bacon sword. He can kill you without saying a word. But bitch, please. I ain't got time for stupid. I'm a horse made of donkey class, and I like sweaters. I had wings made of banana trees. They were my pride. The world is inside a tornado. It will be rubbish, but we're too stupid to see it. We are too dumb to act. We will not overcome our nature that beckons our destruction. It's time for a tomato cocktail. Ew, tomato and alcohol? Yuck. Unless you're drinking vodka and eating pizza. But not at the same time.