Im glad to say my Josephine cat was able to share the place with the pigeons, though she was 20 by then… Its pretty impressive to study what they do and the evidence they left behind, to understand whats going through their minds, even something as uncomfortable and unwanted as their killer instinct. On the joyful side, they are not that easy to catch, it was probably the corpse of a sick bird who fell from the tree after death, hopefully.
On a pavement in the early morning
A headless starling, its heart ripped out
through a hole in its breast
A sign of the times
Cruelty born from plenty
A well-fed cat
leaving the carcass for it masters approval
A child, untaught in love, acting cruel
perhaps unloved, perhaps not loved enough, confused
capable of expressing the demonic
A terrifying consciousness; of expressing the uselessness of its own love
Or maybe angered by an aggressive starling
A predatory cat possesses some very sharp, awful abilities
It claws through, its eyes are surgical instruments
That can see with X-ray senses
the heart and brain beneath the victim’s flesh
Its eyes within its teeth are
animal axmen executioners, Aztec priests
And its prey today is
a pretender, an ex-wife, a rebel, a minor sacrifice.
Ive been having apathy crisis these days, so I dont have that much to say, Im kind of braindead, and I dont have anything interesting to say :(
There is plenty to talk about, but I dont feel much, I have liked things lately, its been good, stuff has worked out here and there, yet, ahhhhggg.
Thats the problem the protagonist of Nun Days is also going through, next chapter she just gives up and isolates. Three more until the end.
These chapters about her work sure sound preachy, but its not about that, its just what she is living, and she is sick of it. In chapter 4 it is explained how her path formed, she lacks faith but she makes up with her abilities, personality and work, all involved in circumstance.
I have a better life than her, so Im gonna do what I always do and assimilate whats going on into artistic effort.
With the puppet director. Today it reminds me of a certain leader of last century, saying to his chief of staff he didnt really like, who kept screwing his happy place, yet couldnt be without “Just get them all out of my sight!!” or something like that.
On other, much more recent news, I really like the president going north, I did liked him long ago in the “struggle years” but never paid much attention until the flu stuff, he is changing a lot of concepts that went sour with the neverending years of dictatorship, the cultural focus from “badass” to “good”. I never liked this place because of the culture of old, made by very nasty disgusting people, and all the sheep who followed and believed of it as the way for success.
Black and white remakes:
Color remakes:
And the new one I did on my 2ds, one day when the power went off after a storm, time to keep the batteries of everything full, I am gladly somehow prepared.
Proud and strong, there she is.
One in the making, though, I dont even know whats going on, I had an idea and its going well, but, I dont know, I dont “like” anything at this state of apathy, which is the same reason I havent finish and keep sleeping instead.
No music today cause I couldnt find something that fits my apathy mood :(
Now, if you excuse me, Im gonna check if the mouse already ate his peanuts, and the pigeon hospital too.
Very interesting. I remember reading a while ago how the spanish colony was made by “segundones”, second child of a wealthy noble family who wasnt the heir.
And how after the fall of Tenochtitlan, the troops were paid not even the price of two swords, cause the main fortune was spend on the crown (20% which was stolen at sea), Cortes, other captains and expenses. They avoided mutiny with the promise of new campaigns which were going to provide new fortunes, land and “workers”, that only came later for a few. Glory in conquest was the exception, not the rule. “A cruel life will be all he knows”.
The pioneer leaves his town
Disentangled from the vein and artery of life;
From the gold star of love; the ten out of ten of full married life;
From the string of happiness and the pearls of security.
Love will not be his for a long time
If he survives in the New World
A cruel life will be all he knows
A fight for survival against the unknown
At home, people will fall in love ten times over
But he will not know love; he will be alone, forgotten
With no one to share his desperation, experience and discovery
Who could sacrifice their life with its love?
For wilderness and the threat of death
Who could give up the kisses of all the girls
For a new morning on a foreign unknown shore
Rocking himself to sleep on a cold night
Remembering the affections given him then and missing…
Ive been very, very, very busy, probably feels too much because the rest of the time I have spent sleeping. I might have even gotten the flu, because some neighbour blabla, and I was short of breath, which did not stop a couple of donkey days of me bringing bird food and the supply is on its way to return to its days of former glory.
I must say everything is fine, very fine, the days of general population starvation because of the lockdown seems to be over, so I dont get overwhelmed, except that its “that time of year” when the hospital is full, its too tiresome but with order and discipline it can be done properly. Right now there are 7 birds, with 2 discharges, one who died of canker (oh, he was such a nice bird, I really liked him, or her, whatever), the other was a young one who wasnt really sick.
There are 4 permanent residents, two from the “Malvado” family, the mother and one of the many sisters of “Pajarito Malvado”, former Pio Piis wife now deceased. Both of them have their own long stories, as have been close since the “old days”, years ago, and they both got a virus that gives a lump in one of the wings, then they couldnt really recover, they cannot fly anymore. There is also Auroro, who has the “aurora virus” and half body semi paralysis. Finally the second recovery of the twisted neck virus, though he still twitches, he may not recover, anyway, he became partner of the sister.
And now, another three, one who seems old age and with respiratory-cardiac problems, though now stable in the hospital, he is not leaving; another black one from the old days, who slowly lost his eye, he still has to get used, like another one who went through the same and now leads a normal life with his very good wife; and one that probably has tumors in his belly and slowly will die, at least in comfort, he is stable but flying is hard.
I dont know how other people have them all together, its trouble this and that, much better to divide into groups that get along, there is always a troublemaker…
And to the stories, I decided to finish Reptile Tales later, I need to fix a bunch of stuff, and theres a few references to “current issues” of that time, I want to get rid of it and reshape it.
Mainly I want to do all that is mostly written, and give structure to what is next to be done, so Im gonna be skipping a bunch. I wasnt even going to do this post, but I cant find my tablet pen… cause last night I fixed the bed-computer station, I do have backup tablets, yet I must find it. I really hate losing stuff.
For Nun Days I adapted the old “Puzzle of a Lost Girl” story, but I realized I only like the first two chapters and a half of she and her abusive family, anyway, I enjoyed how it became a great introduction to the Aurora Nun story.
You didnt get too much attached, right? cause she is not coming back… the real star arrived:
Its a pleasure to do this story, but also a pain because she suffers severe depression, which will accumulate until the end, she is not suicidal though, she just mindlessly gives up.
In the next chapter theres an explanation of how she got and ended up there.
Half of the drawings are remades, and I forgot to post this one last time, could easily be redone with pigeons now…
One in the making, with Nun Aurora by the stone short wall
I want to continue with the “Grab a Pencil” and “History Time” posts, but right now its just impossible, I have no time and tired, so much work to do.
Music, two cheerful ones this time, to contrast the last post:
Funny how I dont like anime, at all, and Im very critical of it, teenage braindead escapism, and not even a good one, I think the worst of it, yet some songs and ideas still remain.
Th clock is ticking so no chance to manual translate this time, and I dont even know if I can do it, probably cant, I have 5 minutes until some work, ahhhh!! just enjoy the melody, its nice (and the lyrics are not that deep, so…).
While were at it, back in the days, like 8 years ago or something, I rather not count, when I was starting to draw, I quickly realized that I needed to decide on a style, and watching this, I made up my mind, to something you still see today.
“Keep hating anime” I will, thank you :P
Ohhhh, the mouse, yeah, he left, then heavily rained and came back, he is at a corner where he doesnt bother me much, I even feed him now, good behavior is rewarded.
This part of Reptile Tales is about other stories, as Ceran says about the main one “I dont think I will be able to keep up with this conversations, everything is so sad and, annoying”. But there are no voids, after these, the Reptile Queen confronts Aurora, who is hidden in the practical less emotional personality called Ceran, because there is no plan for life.
I thought I was going to remove the other stories, but I read again and I liked them, and Ill be able to recover the original “puzzle of a lost girl” story, about the abused girl in the rich family, that has nothing to do with the actual one. Then theres is the Nun Aurora and the Alice star singer story.
In animal news, besides this stubborn monkey, there is a new uninvited resident here at Auroras headquarters, probably comes from next door and their very lousy kitchen, were the presence is known for some time, a very fast on his little feet mouse decided to move in while I was in high in the clouds for a couple of weeks, or so, I dont even remember. The small fellow made me land back to earth, I dont know if I appreciate it, but, was meant to happen, me back to earth.
Now, he has behaved well, and in other circumstances I would even adopt, take him away from the world of intense hate and fear of the humans, but I am already above my means with the pigeon project. He doesnt like (so far) the pigeons millet, he is in for the prepared corn powder. I already tracked his movements and places, Plan A, there is no food for him so he goes elsewhere on his own (which was happening last night but I scared him coming out of a pigeon hospital check and went back…); Plan B, gently catch and release (I already had caught him by accident, but couldnt fast think and decide what to do…).
I do feel bad, just because he has no wings… life is so unfair. So I was thinking of a way, you know, something like… I wish I was a warrior king, in every language that I speak… Im big, smart, strong and tough, yet sensitive and kind, and though I could crush you like a bug, it would never cross my mind… poor little one, I seriously thought of adopting, its a marvel what they do with their little hands, but then, I had to dismantle a nest, cause you know, it happens with young pigeons too, I can never guess their gender… an in construction nest… aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!
And thats the moment I landed back to earth. I must confess, I admit the deed, admit!! I do run an abortion clinic at the shadows of the bathroom, I dont even count how many… but in this case its different, you know, mammals.
I did saw him earlier but havent since I woke up, so maybe he finally left.
I am not even that worried about him anymore (wasnt he a she?), I got a new sick old bird aaaaand I have to temporarily relocate the hospital… aaaahhhg, I should have bought what was necessary, now its too late… ahhhggg, all work and no fun :(
Back to the stories. All remade drawings.
Chapter 2 is a combo of something called “ridiculous rhymes” and the “rock star story”, of someone very normal and not so smart at all. It talks about marketing in entertainment and such. Meanwhile, I vow, as long as I have my very, very, very low income job, Ill just do whatever I want. Well, what else to expect? I have no antenna stuck on my forehead, I cant connect, and I have a ton of work to do, I wonder if Ill ever be able to finish, also, Im reaching bodily limits in my daily activities and the hours fly fast.
Chapter 4 is the “Grandma Aurora the Third” story. I think she would be worst in real life. There is a lot of mockery in the story, from how names are so dumb and meaningless, to how ridiculous it is that her offspring is “normal”.
Chapter 5 is a combo of a creepy person and daughter short story, and “New Feathers”, which is about an author who writes very dark stuff, and eventually involved someone she loves, so she regrets and tries to change, of course the people making money from it couldnt care less, neither the mobs enjoying the circus, yet she writes about the new emotions…
~~~~~
If I could be anything in this world that flew
I would be a little bird and plane gently after you
And if the last time you were here things were a bit obscure
Well you know what happens after dark
Eyes cannot see and hearts show their other side
And so many brave poses lose their bark
But all the trees are calling out for you
Dont you know? the sky lights dancing after you
And theres no essence in the air from you.
If I could be anything in this world that bites
Instead of a big monster on a leash
I rather be a very small one
And hold to the end of your hair
Or your pinky toe as a ship sailing fast
When all the bells are ringing after you
And all the shadows fighting because of you
Green slime creatures turn to prince for you
If I could be anything, in this world that loves
I would be you and say “I dont know, try to change now”.
~~~~~
It also has to do with the main story, with Aurora cooling down her old aggressive ways.
I have written a few versions of this on different matters, and the structure comes from:
Theres a new story I want to do but I guess its gonna be for later, its about progressive sickness, mostly about this song, it is from a game that had a great concept, but Ill spare you the annoyance, it was done terribly, you dont believe for a second that they are sick, there is no grueling pain nor bodily mess, cause you know, certain things are just teenage escapism. Anyway, I like the song a lot, its about someone normal going through that, I really love the, mmm, “theatrics” of it. Ahh, the sadness and desperation, its easy to do with Aurora because shes too strong, has a fighting spirit and the so childish stubborn sense of humor, but in these other stories… you have to be very careful, it brings you a very heavy depression as you live and recreate many times this grey overwhelming everything that consumes the will of the main character. I remember how it happened to me with the “Ashes to Illusions” war-profit suicidal story, it is very worth it, but so painful, were it actually hurts. You actually only need the first two lines to wildly run the storytelling motors:
~I have given up on prayers
On mornings of transparent clear skies~
Whatever the feelings that I hold inside
To never be able to reach anyone
It’s almost as if I were echo
From that cold white narrow room
I can see the same scenery
I only wished for the ordinary
But even this most modest of all fates,
I learned just how fleeting those things were
These maps spread out wide, as if I were traveling
Here I can come and be free
If I just close my eyes, never ending highways
I can forget, all the pain and everything
Out beyond where all those flowers are
There is the gently shining emerald sea
And such a hollow shell as myself
It will hold silently in it’s warm embrace
And it will take far away
With wings injured long ago
A motionless bird in a cage
God truly is not there
These maps spread out wide, with these weakened fingers
Firmly taking hold of me being here
The proud white flowers there, even now at this time
Surely they continue, to bloom there by the waves
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Lets Flatten the Curve of the Bird Food Supply Depletion!
Ah, so busy and so tired, but I wont bore you with that… much.
There was a new older baby, very lovely but was sick and died earlier tonight, wanna see the corpse? no? ok.
Yesterday was a massive “bring all the pigeon food you can” day, cause I got the chance and took it, Ive been promoted (or demoted) from mule to donkey, so now I carry it all in smaller packages, I like it better cause its much faster, yet I bring a third so I have to go again, and if possible again. Would be nice to be more patient, but it seems that flu season its gonna go loooong in the city where I live, like another four months they say.
A little extreme exercising, but its good cause I spend a lot of time sit-laying. Bodily its been funny lately, its like Im growing muscles on the muscles, its a natural condition… maybe I should sell my hormones, and then watch people go crazy, hihihi… special powers have been increasing for a while, you know, special; its way easier to just flow with it, the real problem is that now Im getting a bit dyslexic, normally I got stuck in some words and such, now inverting numbers, deconstruction of words and language goes full vocal.
And I have some housekeeping I havent done… to the stories!
remade from, I really like the changes.
Which is related with what I wrote before, you see, first lets talk about the intro:
Be normal and serve
To the mirror on your face
Think of what you hope to be
And then realize reality
That you cant even think
You first need air to breathe
Crushed all your hopes
The third second there is nothing to eat
So you will
Be normal and serve
To the net of antennas and repeaters that say
Then stand upon the edge
And dream of what it must be to be dead
Oh, I can tell you of that as well
If you happen to have a moment to contemplate
The last nostalgia for your mind to be the same
What you thought would remain forever then will change
Into everpresent overcoming excruciating pain
The lord with domain until the god of death
Covers with a blanket your pitiful useless and senseless self.
“Reptile” by now is a lame stale internet joke, but here I took it, some years ago when I wrote this, as an aurorish representation of the human mind network that rules above it all. Aurora doesnt have an antenna on her forehead, so she wants to leave, yet these stories are about how it is not possible, even for her. It is what the now called Teacher personality has warned her about.
The escape in theory seems to be death… but here the Queen says no, not even that, that your mind is biological and the second you cant keep it up… it is easy to notice, changes on the brain comes along changes in the body, which result in an altered mind configuration, think of the last time you were sick and how your state of mind was different… now, think of yourself dying, and if its an escape, it must be violent.
When I was making the drawing of the Queen, it took me a while but that morning, I got too sleepy, rolled over and zzz, then I got this hallucination-dream (I have got a few lately), I was on an earthquake, to the point of physically sense it. I did noticed I was sleeping, it wouldnt have made sense to be where I am, cause then I would have worried about the birds and the whole thing would have dispelled… I was at another place, a two story cheap and small house I may end up in the long future (…will be smaller than that…), and it was falling, and I was able to experience imminent death, in the few moments you get to contemplate, the faster you think more “time” you have, I guess if you can think fast enough, you could have a lifetime of meditation right there… and I felt nostalgia for my mind, I realized its not going to be the same and that Im gonna miss it, then I prepared for the everpresent overtaking massive pain, that was to become an universe, and then whatever comes in death.
Funny, when I woke up, there was a small earthquake, but not here, at the south. And then I did what I do and put it in the stories, which is good, I needed an intro :)
In the first chapter you get Ceran, the new “shell”, and the Teacher personality talking about this and that. Ceran is not as emotional as Aurora, which serves as an escape, cause she doesnt really have a plan for life.
remade from, I should have worked it out more, but there was three drawings, and I needed this chapter out so I could focus on the next, which I havent cause lots of work, I have a ton of things to do :S
And music:
From the same album, this next one is played at the end of the “Shell to Illusions” stories, before the “Aurora romance for her teacher”. In that what-if, the Core violently takes over the shell, who tried to solve the problems by going into a relationship.
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Lets Flatten the Curve of the Bird Food Supply Depletion!
“Oh, life isnt what it seems, Im forever floating into dreams
Is it a sad affair? to always be drifting into air.”
But let me get something out of my chest first.
I have always found it funny, how many stuff (screw “much”, I say things how I like >I ) that happens north, for either good or bad, emulates later south where I live. Its like a big brother who says, “its ok, you can do this now”. The social result of a technological and cultural conquest, me? being attached to my native ways, I like to bring the better of it, which is really faceless and has no name.
Maybe because Im old, but what I like is the balance, of a conservative base with high peaks of liberalism. I dont trust both on its own, once “Augustus is gone”, whatever is left…
Well, what Im talking about in very short words. A nationalist, the first thing that comes to mind when “close to the people” is said, someone who goes touring all the poor little rural towns and hangs with the people there as one of them, gets to be president and starts to clean house and more… the powers that were profiting from a hundred year old dictatorship, were not anymore, so in their rags they are desperately looking for someone to give a fight, and one of those is the local governor of where I live, who once upon a time was an ally of the now president.
The flu comes around, the governor bets on chaos that never comes and launches an offensive against the president (here is where Au got flubucks, amazing!!!). Small fights here and there, lockdowns extend again and again, then what goes on right now at the north happens, and guess what? something that often occurs here, a month before, in some little town south of the city, some cops where collecting people “with no facemask”, because locally became mandatory, this was like the 8th or so guy they picked, a very poor construction worker, he was having dinner sitting on the sidewalk with his brother, I think it was his aunts house, he resisted a bit and they beat him more and more. Vulgarities, intimidation, by the time they took him, the neighbours were outisde and they were asking “Is he coming back alive or dead?”.
Later that night they had fun with him and killed him, blabla, the state authorities buried the case because they are all in the same drug dealing crap and its normal, blabla. Nobody cares, because theres plenty of murders daily here, the little towns are feudal, and everybody is either bribed or threatened. One month later, a small news outlet from outside the country (and from the people in it, was supposed to be allied with the governor, mmm…) released the story and video of the “arrest”. A day later, until people catch up… and with the fashion of whats happening north, now, nooooow, it became a big deal, and operation damage control from the local government started and arrested the murderers under the social pressure, a month later.
“Facemask or neck!!” “See? this is why you need an upheld constitution…”. Social balance is incredibly frail. And at the end so far, you have a governor who made a bunch of wrong bets, pushed by greedy people who lost their cow, and a humanist president who stood strong. Oh, and Au with half the promised flubucks from the local guy, with the state swimming in more debts than… And what I hope is a great police reform, it fiiiiinally was recently set with the criminal courts, now this should be next, yet it wont happen until it does first at north, so good luck!
With that said, quickly back to the stories, yeeey.
In these late chapters of Theater Days, you have Aurora trolling her way out of a difficult situation, she could fiiiinally wake up from the amnesia and all that struggle, yet plenty of long time stalled problems were waiting for her to be there, her response…
remade from:
And then she “creates” a new personality to hide from her worries, called Ceran:
From this one, I removed the lines to make her a bit more mysterious. Names dont mean much here, Im terrible at it.
The first multiple personality, the lost boy of old, will keep pushing because he naturally wants to recover the old core of Aurora, still dormant.
This, I left the same.
This I changed. They talk a bit about the “timebomb” also know as “the core wont wake up and the shell is obsolete and crumbling apart”.
Maid bread, Ceran just wants to play, and she is not as emotional as Aurora, so she just does it, in this one as contrast, I made the lines thicker.
Oh yeah, so, so hot under the hottest days, uhh…
from
And to end, music. Next is “Reptile Tales”.
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Lets Flatten the Curve of the Bird Food Supply Depletion!
Ive being so busy lately and the next chapters are going to need heavy editing cause it goes for too long and stuff repeats, so while I do aaall of that and settle back into art mode, I thought of giving little guide points of this and that, about drawing.
Making a drawing is an adventure, it is a collection of techniques put together in order to create the visual you desire. Personally I was never attracted, I always thought I was going to make music, but of that I could find plenty, images for the storytelling, I didnt, so from zero I started at old age, I dont remember how many years ago. You do like working, right? of course you do, and with music your brain wont become mush.
First of all comes the eye in your mind, when it is healthy you can produce a lot, when you are not, youre stuck and blind. If youve been reading for a while, Im sure you can remember me talking, and complaining, about it.
I would divide drawing in three concepts: Lines, Textures and Color.
Lines can have many purposes and serve from guidance and then completely erased, to end up as a main feature in the finished drawing.
Lines go hand to hand with the style you wish to portrait, and if you happen to have a model, you will soon realize that it doesnt exactly scale, you must establish the principles of the style you want while taking reference.
Personally, I most often go for the goofy cartoonish style, because the stories are already too sad and depressing. That depends on you and what you want.
Line style, lets make hair examples with a full brush and just that (more on that later…):
What costume shall, the poor girl wear, for all tomorrow parties?
From the very basic that could be done for whatever reason, and can be improved with texture and colors; to something more stylish and complex. Theyre all “valid” done properly, and a change in style will surely be refreshing. I think of hair of a great reference point for the whole drawing, I guess I really like it.
You must have in mind that the characters you are portraying, they need to have characteristic points in the drawings, which makes them stand and be recognizable, you dont want everybody to look the same. “Oh, it looks like her”, its such a great feeling.
Thats it for today.
Homework: think of the style you wish to have for your drawings on your blog.
Feel free to ask a question, you can also upload a drawing on your gallery and post the link in the comments.
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Lets Flatten the Curve of the Bird Food Supply Depletion!
I was so happy with the drawing frenzy a week ago, when I got a call from “real life” saying it wanted its time back, and sure it did.
Work, this and that, more work, and a few misadventures of late, nothing serious though, for example, my old little cart broke, something like this:
Instead of the burden of a person, you had many, many kg of bird food… and some peanuts for me… and sugar, and some cheap so-so cocoa… no wonder it broke.
It left me stranded like a km away… anyway, Im thinking of a plan b, but I want something fast rather than heavy-at-once, which I was kind of sick of, it was too tiresome… bike, skateboard, roller skates, a better cart… mmm, nothing seems to really work, plus the expense.
Anyway, sorry to have bored you with that, which left me too tired, but what really drowned my mood, you see, around here:
At the back street of the most of the time empty catholic curses center nearby, it seems like the religious dude who lives inside feeds the pigeons, and I say him cause they go to the center… also a neighbour from this point is doing his-her duty, which brings birds around, it is a large place, so you dont notice them much, Michael and Wife summer nest is around here, they took a bathroom with an open window last year… and then…
I found a baby, a baaabyyyyy!!! He fell from the nest.
The most cutiepie baby, he was full of love, and peanut butter. I thought he was going to make it… he died of respiratory-cardiac failure at the night of the fourth day here.
Ahhhh, poor little baby. Theres more to the story but Im not in the mood. While I perfectly understand child mortality in birds, I was still upset for some days and couldnt draw at all.
At least I did a drawing now I forgot to do before, though Im still not sure about it, may change it later:
Mr Pio Pii!! the most Aurorish bird there could ever be, he is special, just like Aurora, special, can you imagine, a bird being special? how can a bird be special? no need to imagine, here he is, special, just like Aurora, see? special :)
He is one of the main reasons the pigeon project has lasted for so long and through so many hardships and expenses I rather not think about. He has a long interesting story, and had-has a sister, Lady Pii, who moved south; Their fleeing mother and the (very weird to happen) adoptive parents were the Old King and Queen (he is the current King)… he also had a divorced wife, Pajarito Malvado (Evil Bird), who died in one of the illnesses waves that happened last year and took so many, but all those stories are for later. Sadly I dont take photos until they die, cause “Im gonna see them later”… same with notes, lets see how much I can actually remember about them all, its gonna be more romantic (…in arts…) when I dont :P
Then, what else? there was more but its another theme, better back to work. Two piano short songs:
And “…chuchu, goes the train, and here I go, go again…” from the so depressive “Ashes to Illusions” war-profit-suicidal story.
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Lets Flatten the Curve of the Bird Food Supply Depletion!
I had this fragment of dream-story stab my brain like a shard of ice. The struggling artist goes unpunished – well that’s not very nice.
Normally the artist is left to self-crucify and no one cares. They do the job for you and your money is spared.
But this struggling artist goes un-punished – why. It could be that a crazy comet was passing by, that looked down from on rocky high and said – we don’t want this struggling artist to die.
Feed the pigeons
Oh, all the rocky comets in the sky got together for a party. An astronaut who was passing by then thought “this all looks very he-arty”
“It’s a squiggle of comets, well I’ll be a pangolins violin. This whole corner of the universe is subject to their din”. “Call the comet cops, the alien noise patrol before they get into rock and roll”. What…
