So as it turns out, I'm back
Sep. 29th, 2004 07:14 amSince I'm not in much of a headspace to post about my week away yet, here's a juicy nugget of repeatable behavior from
triadruid:
1. Think of a word you would use to describe me.
2. Go to Google Image Search and search for that word.
3. Select the picture you see as most fitting, and post it as a reply to this entry.
4. Post this in your journal. The spice must flow.
And, feel free to turn Safe Search off. That's for babies. It sometimes filters more than just porn, and I don't care about mature NWS content.
Tee.Hee.Hee.
1. Think of a word you would use to describe me.
2. Go to Google Image Search and search for that word.
3. Select the picture you see as most fitting, and post it as a reply to this entry.
4. Post this in your journal. The spice must flow.
And, feel free to turn Safe Search off. That's for babies. It sometimes filters more than just porn, and I don't care about mature NWS content.
Tee.Hee.Hee.
Words that only make pictures in my head will have to do.
Date: 2004-09-29 07:54 am (UTC)a poem by Sylvia Plath
As the gods began one world, and man another,
So the snakecharmer begins a snaky sphere
With moon-eye, mouth-pipe. He pipes. Pipes green. Pipes water.
Pipes water green until green waters waver
With reedy lengths and necks and undulatings.
And as his notes twine green, the green river
Shapes its images around his songs.
He pipes a place to stand on, but no rocks,
No floor: a wave of flickering grass tongues
Supports his foot. He pipes a world of snakes,
Of sways and coilings, from the snake-rooted bottom
Of his mind. And now nothing but snakes
Is visible. The snake-scales have become
Leaf, become eyelid; snake-bodies, bough, breast
Of tree and human. And he within this snakedom
Rules the writhings which make manifest
His snakehood and his might with pliant tunes
From his thin pipe. Out of this green nest
As out of Eden's navel twist the lines
Of snaky generations: let there be snakes!
And snakes there were, are, will be--till yawns
Consume this piper and he tires of music
And pipes the world back to the simple fabric
Of snake-warp, snake-weft. Pipes the cloth of snakes
To a melting of green waters, till no snake
Shows its head, and those green waters back to
Water, to green, to nothing like a snake.
Puts up his pipe, and lids his moony eye.
Re: Words that only make pictures in my head will have to do.
Date: 2004-09-29 09:35 am (UTC)