Something I'm Writing to follow up on as an illustration/ Graphic novel

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posted on Dec, 22 2013 @ 10:37 AM
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…In a darker hallucination inside this mind I sit devoid in a darker library inside not quite awake not quite together, clasping to this clean whiskey glass brimmed to the top with melting ice as clear and as blue as skies remembered from long ago, (perhaps I shall pull this book off the shelf to compare). Perched atop of this tattered mildew green throne alone in the suddley lit room with a hint of these dusty and tattered remnants of book spines haphazardly hanging from the broken shelves, somberly recalling these are my thoughts, my memories. I slink farther back in this chair extending this drink to my knees. As I stare at its warm golden liquid I begin to witness the black ink dripping in from the dark spot on the ceiling swirling drop by drop into plumes of gold and blackness, I take another sip. In this moment I wish to hear the piano and the violin and as it has it, today is my lucky day, the phonograph begins to play my favorite scores that have no names. I return to watching my cup fill drop by drop, plumes each exploding into their own fashionable shape and before I know it, It is raining in my library painting it black as though the longest cast shadow draws across the spines and the floor even diluting my only light bulb searing and steaming as it adorns its crest. And then it all melts away, returning to normal, back to my dull colors and broken shelves.


This hand somberly reaches into a hidden drawer, hand revealing by the putrid yellowness of the filament bulb sorrowfully swinging above. The anti luster of all the dirt and decay locked behind the yellowing nails. The dull light stretches across revealing the intricacies of one of the finer gifts of humanity this broken heartedly dexterity feebly clasping the spine of this dusty volume, as though this wretched hand already believed cumbersome the words locked away on those pages, and only providing a clean slate atop the leather bindings soon to be replaced with dust and tears.

As the soul eviscerates the body tearing through making the un tangable tangable deeply ripping through the flesh reversing the roles of all the dynamic principles holding together this universe breaking every known rule the soul makes its way outside displaying the unsatisfaction in the land of the living leaving behind an empty body as a heap of flesh this creature becomes more then human and defies its own immortal existence by clearing its way outside of its shell becomes something new something else as it is the first of its kind

Is merely a board game for the living creating and destroying changing everything around into a twisted nightmare of blurred lines somewhere between good and evil somewhere between real and imagination…



I hope ATS approves thanks for stopping by!

B-Man




posted on Dec, 22 2013 @ 01:38 PM
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Current frame I am working on (when the non tangible rips through to the tangible)

For Larger Image
edit on 22-12-2013 by Brotherman because: (no reason given)





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