Bugolgi Apparatus

Meet the new people They're smaller using less space quieter; air diffuses  their complaints compost-friendly excreting green bricks connecting silently in habitrails where they live working smarter brains in a cloud running cooler add coffee and yoga taking over without questions for you except  "when are you leaving?" and  "is there anyway you could go sooner?"

you posted I just saw that photo  you posted and I've got to tell you  you look terrible  holding that drink petting that lion  skydiving   in Rio  with tall tan people  eating at restaurants  genitals  in your mouth   without me It's just  not  enough

Something doesn't fall in line when you practice the set; something is off- too depressive. You try changing the sequence; you write several new songs, but you've underestimated your intentions and your second guesses are wrong. Looking over the list compulsively there's only one thing that fits- change the name of the song; the sequence of titles must have a deep fit.

driverless cars in sleeveless dresses with meatless sandwiches in driverless cars  passing empty landscapes  once there was  some kind of purpose now there are only so many purchases as we entertain  ourselves  contemplating  greatness we seem to have  some kind of crisis something orange will solve it swallow a mouthful of blues Did I tell you already  You look perfect 

On the wrong side of history they were pulled  dragging and  screaming into the new their resistance earned them  the contempt of the young with little patience or understanding for what they  didn't know they were left to figure  everything out on their own glancing at them we could tell they were completely wrong

Ignorance and weaponry hill I die on fight rages on  with a pen  against a gun joined together above the neck the soft spot runs from  heart to head gonna split this last crumb then climb the hill  any way I can

Language teachers in bed Run those vowels Under my skin Do the exercises Over again If we smoke now You won't remember a thing I'll have to correct Everything you say All the resistance You gave me in class Now comes back In every bite and scratch The whole thing comes To a final climax With a test on the Future subjunctive

All along the Orla crawled over every inch  of this thin strip  through the unlit windows  where people live faces reveal  the boredom and terror of the same civil  engineering errors maybe on the bottom  maybe on the top under the stars all along the Orla  wrap this night around our thighs until our desires  bleed through our minds  turn this dance into a commute from  Ladeira da Barra  to Pituba where red lights  are faint suggestions and purple skies receive ovations  after the third sip of the shaman’s ayahuasca  find yourself stretched  all along the Orla

stop touching yourself-I can help If that's all  you know you could  always learn more knowledge  is free ignorance  costs too much fun comes in  orgasmic bundles then gets lost  under the bed typing into  your computer not the way  to make it appear sometimes it comes on  as nausea  sometimes  vertigo like the outlook  of a child looking for  a place to go

using it up I needed to be angry  at something there was enough  stuff lying around emotion came over me  and I was shaking  most of the  day long was it better than  feeling nothing I haven’t felt that  for quite a while I know too much  about other people they just stay there in mind 

What was yesterday about? Some pain A conversation Sitting down Lunch Memories  Of intimacy Emergencies A phone call Plans A list Noises Of other people Soft ambitions Held in check  By limited  Self-awareness

https://youtu.be/0HYjp3LgVKo