Timothy J. Fairplay -Mindfighter EP

On a bridge on a plain senorita sing again as the angels learn to fly they’re oblivious, delirious [] once upon a time certain words became a rhyme and although the meaning changed they’re oblivious, delirious [] the air is an idea and contains a gateway here and there are stories that I tell but they’re oblivious, delirious [] I’m electric don’t you know I’m magnetic full of flow and I try t tell the world but they’re oblivious, delirious [] scratching at the door even though you came before weren’t you desperate to get out? But you’re oblivious delirious [] there’s no welcome back there’s no room within this shack they’d rather you weren’t here but they’re oblivious delirious [] and it all still looks the same because you think a plain’s a plain you should see it underneath but you’re oblivious
delirious

There’s not a glimmer of fire in the eyes
not an ember to smoulder
but something’s going tick tock
and it’s loud enough to move
as a casual wave
and I am at your mercy

I burnt from my mistakes

Fontän – Fontän

The surgeon burst, just as he was getting to the good bit. Damn, he thought, damn, what a waste of a good bit. So he set about finding the bits and sewing them back together, but this was a time ensuing process, so once he was re-established, he found that he was no longer a surgeon as he knew it, and the task facing him now was almost entirely structural, something alien to a worker of shambola which he now knew he was to be. Give me a needle and dread, he asked, give me the needle, but the needle was possessed, it was moving, whirring, spinwatting and slabbing. Nowhere was this more apparent than on the structure, something made for itself, conceived for itself, executed for political reasons. And people say I’m a bit odd. Well, wouldn’t you be? But the surgeon, why do we always forget the surgeon? I can remove that lump, he said, or at least, I could, back when I knew what it was. No need, these things are brought on by anger, don’t you know, anger and frustration, and the removal of these ills often effects a cure, but you need to journey and to see, it’s a very strange experience, you often are not sure whether or not you had it, though the memory is vivid enough. I can dig that, replied the surgeon, I must admit this is all a bit weird for me, have you ever pieced yourself back together using only a memory of a subjective prior being? Yes. Yes. Yes. Every fucking day. Wakefulness is what gives me purpose, but, by god, it comes at a price, and I’m not sure what’s left in the bank. I have to save some for the son, though I, the father, have a somewhat privilege, and I get to use it, more than I did, especially now I’m beginning to know where to find more of it. The thing is sustainability. Yes, I know it’s a trendy buzzword, and for that I apologise, I dislike having to use words too, but have you ever tried communicating concepts without their context? Context is, and I think I may have said this before, everything. Everything is context. So, do I get better, asked the surgeon. Yes. But only if you want to. Find your purpose and you will automatically. Ignore your purpose and it becomes harder.

Free the computer within!

Idiomatic. My style is idiomatic. That does NOT mean I’m automatically an idiot. Probably.