Sunflower Skins

October 20, 2013

Guam’s Bible Promises, pt. XXVIII: If You Build It, He Will Do What He Always Does and Punish Innocent People

28_If_You_ Build_It

“For as the heaven is high above the earth, so great is his mercy toward them that fear him.” (Ps. 103:11)

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Guam’s outtake:


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October 22, 2011

Happy Early Halloween, Pt. II

Filed under: art — Tags: , , — Sunflower Skins @ 5:44 pm

March 11, 2011

don’t be a drag

Filed under: art — Tags: , , , , — Sunflower Skins @ 10:18 pm

December 9, 2010


Filed under: art — Tags: , , , , , — Sunflower Skins @ 8:19 pm

November 28, 2010

She Plays With Monsters

Filed under: art — Tags: , , , — Sunflower Skins @ 8:53 pm

July 11, 2010

Experiment 10: googoo gagod

Filed under: experiments, prose — Tags: , — Sunflower Skins @ 12:04 am

Slithering around our legs were dozens of limbs—no, tentacles. Up along the binary ridges were strange hanging vines which oozed purple. When I finally gazed across the sludgy horizon Karen spoke, Where’s god now? But it was I who spoke—I am the speaker. The seer. There’s nothing slithering around our eggs. We have none, no meals to eat, as our own arms turn a sensuous shade of green and begin to ooze thick, bubbly jelly. The sun feeds my addiction and I turn my face toward its rays, stretch and press my face against glass, warm. In that sky, there’s nothing but heat and extreme cold, there’s nothing but. When Karen or I muttered all of a sudden a moment ago, I looked up and saw the entire endless sky, gargantuan and void. Look back the void stares long enough. I’ll deliver the wisdom here, if my mouth doesn’t get swallowed up in violet liquid first. We’re being drowned by our own fluids, uncontrollably pouring out more and more goooo. As it rises around us, Karen tries to swim upward, making useless motions with her tentacle-arms—no, not useless—she pulls me along through the river we create. She’ll pay my toll. Keep your head above the gurgling, googling stream, keep your face turned upward—keep searching the skies…

For what? What do you think you’ll see that will change the order of the universe, recreating our society as the first with true knowledge—scientifically, theologically, and philosophically—not to mention send loads of new meaning into your personal, individual life?

I don’t think so.

There isn’t a universal truth.

So either find your own and keep your head above the gooey, viscous, swirling liquid that engulfs your body—drain your apartment of the mysterious blood seeping from your addicted arms and your hungry mouth and your lusting—reset the pretences and comb back Karen’s hair—or realize it’s your own creation and you’re bound by it, fatally. You bleed art—and you don’t drown either.

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