by admin | May 10, 2022 | Umbrographic Archive
Things are bad. My pre-frontal cortex has reached such miserable spectral mass that my head can’t even contain it. There are ghosts coming out of my ears and tear ducts at all hours of the day. One of them rings a bell in the corner of my room. Another one, at night,...
by admin | May 10, 2022 | Umbrographic Archive
Here is the stone of the philosopher. If you rub it, your ribs will enlarge and you’ll look like some kind of human cage. You’ll also understand pretty much everything and have answers to life’s most difficult questions like, “What should I wear today that will...
by admin | May 10, 2022 | Umbrographic Archive
Mania’s coming. Schizoid, schizoid, schizoid. Here’s three of me. Here they are at a carnival, all pretending to be ducks at the shooting gallery. They want to die. Here they are at the top of the Empire State Building, throwing pennies off and trying to assassinate...
by admin | May 10, 2022 | Umbrographic Archive
My hand and wrist are so small that it looks like I’m 1/40 Cabbage Patch Kid. The hand is little and fat and feels like fabric and the fingers are stitched together. My forearm goes from regular flesh and starts tapering down until it’s this thin little...
by admin | May 10, 2022 | Umbrographic Archive
Must be a syndrome. I get up, hit the wall until there’s a hole in it, and then do some other stuff before going back to sleep. I’m conscious of it. It’s not like I’m sleep walking. I’m just really, really compelled to do it. I make the wall holes five times a night,...