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Breathing In The Crumbs and The Dust Bunnies

by Mas Guerrero

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1.
2.
the sun rose with reluctance and remained steadfast over the equator. the light so still, no shadow cast, the depths in things turning flat. a lawnmower still buzzed an indeterminate distance away, i follow the lone sound of human activity over the cacophony of security alarms and dogs howling in agony wishing to cover their ears. It’s as if he didn’t notice, the white soles of his New Balances staining with green, mulched brush strokes. I stop him and reveal to him the honing device on my nape, it’s today. It’s getting warmer, my limbs begin to tingle. We go about talking casually, about the train tracks we built as the train kept coming, the race against time until the inevitable precipice. while on the topic of entropy, the leviathan turns and heeds her voluptuous gonads, lifting a club into the air and bleeds the earth dry of all it’s life blood. i never felt a shake so grand. the satellites on the houses around me flop off like falling coconuts, the stucco cracks into piles of rubble, the unmanned car in his driveway sounds sirens away briefly until the battery swells into disfunction. not a bird in the sky and the insects all seemed to have hidden in their burrows. He takes off his gardening hat and places it against his chest. Not much to do now except reminisce, something that was out of our control long before we were born but adapted to milk every good thing about it. Our milk jug now laid capsized, my memories return to the cloud after not paying for the service, but who needs it where we’re going? My eyes open to a home, similar to my home but more crowded than I could have ever imagined. I see him and the trajectory of his past and future movements, ghostly transparencies as he fulfills the motions. I sink to the carpet, breathing in the crumbs and the dust bunnies, my trajectory stays here, permanent inertia, permanent inertia, permanent inertia, permanent inertia, permanent inertia, permanent inertia, permanent inertia, permanent inertia, permanent inertia, permanent inertia, permanent inertia, permanent inertia, permanent inertia, permanent inertia, permanent inertia, permanent inertia, permanent inertia, permanent inertia

about

2 track dream journal

9 minutes total

Recorded February 2022
at Big Mattress Studios (Southern California Branch)

Ⓒ 2022 CelebrityCity Inc. Music Division

The puddle on the floor is me; you could see my tennis shoes and digital watch aimlessly skimming the surface of the liquid like some broaching, unmanned canoes. You tsk tsk at the mess, nag that guests are arriving soon and it would be embarrassing seeing the condo in this condition. I make an excuse but it only comes out as air bubbles and fragmented diphthongs. You roll your eyes as you continue to place pimento stuffed olives on toothpicks on a grid of quartered sandwiches. An air duct flowing balmy air makes my torso ripple, I am not phased by this, I could solidify whenever I want to.

credits

released February 25, 2022

Medium Channeling by Mas Guerrero

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all rights reserved

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about

Mason Guerrero Los Angeles, California

Cave dweller

Booking: sherifframb@gmail.com

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