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Transiente Sichten | Die Welt ist alles andere als persistent | Seite 2
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Die Welt ist alles andere als persistent. Zum sekundären Inhalt wechseln. Neuere Beiträge →. Was treibt Wissenschaftler an? Eine Antwort auf diese Frage werde ich in Zukunft meinen Gästen im Explorism-Podcast. Versuchen zu entlocken. Die erste Folge ist heute erschienen. Zum Gespräch habe ich Oliver Tacke. Getroffen. Mehr Infos gibt’s dann drüben im Blog zum Podcast. Folgen kann man außerdem auf der Facebook-Fanpage. Oder via Twitter unter @Explorism. Links vom 05.11.2011. Ad Astra H. G. Francis. Geht es...
tiny-postcard.blogspot.com
Tiny Stories: June 2013
http://tiny-postcard.blogspot.com/2013_06_01_archive.html
Tuesday, 25 June 2013. Those old men spend their last days. Working on immobile steam engines:. It is some fucking hobby. Saturday, 15 June 2013. Euphoric Flashback (Take 2). Euphoric Flashback (Take 2). Dreamlike an astronaut paced like a spirit. The folk in the forest were chasing their hit. How simple the substance made you an ethereal. You're back on the drug that you thought had all drained. And that kid in the photograph swaggers on stage. Those motorbike engines will scream through the trees.
tiny-postcard.blogspot.com
Tiny Stories: Tags
http://tiny-postcard.blogspot.com/2014/09/tags.html
Monday, 22 September 2014. Those who think #tags are shallow. Should read some haiku:. Fragmented image in words. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Simple theme. Powered by Blogger.
tiny-postcard.blogspot.com
Tiny Stories: March 2014
http://tiny-postcard.blogspot.com/2014_03_01_archive.html
Friday, 14 March 2014. Flow My Liquid God. I'm gonna kill it dead. Bound by an unseen thread. I'm gonna kill it dead. Beneath the rains I'm fed. I'm fed, I'm fed. MY LIQUID GOD FLOW. I'm gonna kill it dead. Leave it a book unread. I'm gonna kill it dead. Beneath the rains I'm fed. I'm fed, I'm fed. MY LIQUID GOD FLOW. I'm gonna kill it dead. Light flees my bandaged head. I'm gonna kill it dead. Beneath the rains I'm fed. I'm fed, I'm fed. MY LIQUID GOD FLOW. Tuesday, 11 March 2014. And wash my mind.
tiny-postcard.blogspot.com
Tiny Stories: Keyboard Warrior
http://tiny-postcard.blogspot.com/2015/02/keyboard-warrior.html
Tuesday, 17 February 2015. On the plains of the Internet. Stride forth, brave soul. With a pain that you can't forget. Your words shine like gold. Guide me by the light of your candle. Through the darkest thread. I follow The Warrior's tread. Figure with a thousand names. Walking through the flames. Is born and dies every day. Your belief will fly you far away! You are my shield. Your ultimatum has been sent,. And the foe gallops through the field. And with every post. You strike at the heart of the host.
tiny-postcard.blogspot.com
Tiny Stories: November 2013
http://tiny-postcard.blogspot.com/2013_11_01_archive.html
Thursday, 28 November 2013. Rationality Makes Me Sick. Rationality Makes Me Sick. Well you're so fucking organized. Rationality makes me sick. You trust your brain and trust and your eyes. On good days I throw bricks. About lows and highs. The worst you do is cry. Well you're so fucking sensible. Rationality makes me puke. You can break me down in a crucible. Look me up in a book. About what is right. You march into the light. Well you're so fucking delighted. Rationality makes me vom. The idea should be.
tiny-postcard.blogspot.com
Tiny Stories: January 2014
http://tiny-postcard.blogspot.com/2014_01_01_archive.html
Friday, 24 January 2014. Thousand Year Syntax Tree. Thousand Year Syntax Tree. Subconscious automatic membrane pulse. Aphasic mumbled belief in choice. A thousand year syntax tree. Recursive scan through the grammar. Beating iron with a hammer. Till it comes, total control. And the beast has crept out from its hole. Its muzzle digging for the fruit. The one obsession claims the brute. With reddened eyes and shredded paws. The blood drips slowly from its claws. Taking control through sacrifice. And when I...
tiny-postcard.blogspot.com
Tiny Stories: Meaningless Sex
http://tiny-postcard.blogspot.com/2015/02/meaningless-sex.html
Tuesday, 17 February 2015. Why I'm not going to stay? It's not ze lack of love. It is ze lack of today. Do you think I am dumb? I have two PhDs! When I open my legs. It is like ze tree opening its leaves. Ze lack of today? Ze lack of today. Is a - uhhhh. Important thing to know. Please stop looking at me. You are like one of these homeless. Or some stupid monk. With a cross on his neck. Ze lack of today? No more than ze bison chewing grass. Or ze comets flying past. I am afraid it is too early for.
tiny-postcard.blogspot.com
Tiny Stories: Mortar and Pestle
http://tiny-postcard.blogspot.com/2014/05/mortar-and-pestle.html
Friday, 23 May 2014. My Friday night ritual. I've been crushing on you for years. Dressed up in your latex suit. The red light gleaming off your boots. I'll see you again in Xanadu. The dead will rise. You'll see your mother's eyes. For the first time. Takes off your prison smock. Cleared of your crimes. Time is always relative. The extract filters through the sieve. I still feel your lips upon my face. Bitter as a poison leaf. More certain than true, just, belief. Darling, I'm floating your way.
tiny-postcard.blogspot.com
Tiny Stories: December 2013
http://tiny-postcard.blogspot.com/2013_12_01_archive.html
Monday, 23 December 2013. Less Skeleton Than Soul. Less Skeleton Than Soul. It's hard to accept peace in your life. Like a pool collecting. Where once was a torrent of strife. You'll fit through the keyhole. Now you're less skeleton than soul. And what you see in that chamber. Looks so dead and old. All you need is the money for beer. Will let your conscience walk away clear. You'll fit through the keyhole. Now you're less skeleton than soul. And what you see in that chamber. Looks so dead and old. It fe...
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