space alien plants?
artichoke cactus monsters?
i got a new plant,
and it sure looks dope.
check the purple-ish weirdie teleport:
hens and chicks,
mamas and babies,
spiky splayers and silvery pink players!
it's pretty fresh, folks-
it's got nearly no roots,
and it's already bigger than when i bought it.
i'm a big fan of boundless enthusiasm and the propensity towards
filling up and spreading out across any and all available spaces.
i'm kind of one of those wild flippin' animals that only grows in directly
proportionate size, shape, form, and function to his habitat.
the woodsly goodness is vast, for a series of small towns,
like per capita or whatever, we're pretty empty.
that's great news, neighbors,
despite the conveniences that are afforded to more urban areas,
i've got room to grow.
big places are better than big cities as far as warrior poets are concerned.
i'm spanning across epic expanses,
and i'm inflating my attributes to occupy more of this wide open place.
am i trying to be larger than life?
i'm trying to have a larger life.
i'm ready to shower in thunder clouds and bite the white tips off of mountain tops.
exponential multiplication of my spirit and memories?
a quickening of my infinite nature?
i'm trying to maintain the same level of intensity over a greater area.
the object is never ever less, y'know?
you do get it, i hope-
i live alone so i'm blowing up in size to fill the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
i'm taking up all the slack that arises the glaring lack of cohabitants.
like the last goldfish in the tank,
once his brothers and sisters have gone belly-up, y'heard?
he gets bigger, and somehow seems to be more alive, once they're gone.
that's what i'm hoping for.
bigger, better, more.
big time, kids.
and my peaches are coming along nicely.
check the greenskinned teleport:
soon, they'll be fuzzy and fresh,
juicy and ripe,
and ready to make a sweet pie or somethin'.
this old house holds a lot of life inside it.
i put it there.
i guess that says soemthing;
never quiet, never soft.....