Floating plushie
Episodes
Episodes of Floating plushie
Mark All
Light green replaced by dark green after a few steps in time Moses has taken.His return - she following suit, in his footsteps, going a little further, with confidence - the lightness in the younger age would give, in the wonders, in the making
The lambs are dancingwhile rolling rocks on the shoulders of the hillsThey are singingwhilespitting salt on the bottom of the sea(...)they are dancing and in this dance there's us... ...... ..... . ... ... ..... ... .... .... ... ..............
HUMAN CONDITIONThey call it a heart. I call it the lack of it.(...)Your baby's hair grows. short Of ages of desire, Of the beat of innocence, of the last touch of candour.It grows.(...)Photo: freepik.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy f
Spare the sun the view it has on treesBarks that you peel as you'd like to get itwhy they don't complain (as we dowhen skin peels softly into ages of beauty unsure if only young age you'd call beauty)when their bodies fall to ground, to die, al
Old her crammed into her vanitiesslipping her hands into time's pockets.This pocket having as big events as chasing eclipses on a starry sky, or vice versa.Verse in, vice out.The pat on the shoulder from the child they used to be, a peek-a-boo
A Man of Halves (Canibalove)He bites off the whole of her as if she was no halfHe eats her entirely as if she were no halfIt sounds terrible though it isn'tIt is a story where in order to exist you have toCANIBALOVEAs that is the highest form o
(...)Not until neighing has become the voice of nature in the barking of the dogs,chirping of the birds and scattering of the windNot until you've admitted wholeheartedlyNot until you've disgraced yourself that you've been graced(...) Hosted on
that's why dreams are...instead of dreamingof beingwho you're not, be you.Someone is taking a picture of youOf you next to a king and his queenMaybe it's you taking night snap shotswhile dreaming of becoming You. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/
This horse has only one masterThis master has only one horseThey brush the skin off of each otherand eat its pores into the undulating Nature -closing the eyes, everything a Gaussian distribution -they never ride away withor eat it off -an enti
Round us to the shape of the wombTo the cry it bestows on humanityas if the mouth of the tomb was birthinglight where the dark past of unrepented faultsinfused into the soft, fluid formof the body and soulwas glowing its contrary layers intoyou
These pines will never fall towering overunkind buzzes of cars and people all togetheras they swing from side to sideteased but not humbled by the wind:they own this - heads raisedbetween the ground and the skythey can afford to differentiate t
She doesn't push for the future. She's been waiting.God has found a nest in her. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Before they started devouringas we know they have.(...)then sacred consciousnessyou're left with as you weep like a prophet(...)Photo credits: My sister's photo from her personal archive Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more informati
there's something impossiblein every fine line of her bodyas age takes its toll and restson the only bone that unites the sky and the earth.Photo credits: https://depositphotos.com/photos/impossible.html?qview=13666763 Hosted on Acast. See acas
A door opens anotherwhile another door closes anotherwindow that opens a windowthat closes. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
"Tell me, A.G.!""Why is it that your shoes crushed the ants?""Do you hope to get seen someday?"He did not answer. A wry smile lit up his face as he went up to her... Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
(the first ever winter that turned into summer overnight)Her ancestors as if condemned, none of them entertained hope,but she suspended the warped war and soared up to the multicoloured moonbeams,living out the world's dreams as its youngest re
Biting the biting frostlooking into the sunwarm and golden-coated they becomeThe outstretched hand suspended in the airas if...Feeling with his gazethe crusty old cheek, wrinkled, soft, yet redAt the same time, as hard as rock, healthyunder the
Love but You Lovetrees with their trunks moving too deep into the ground,or way up reaching further and further into a sky,never quite understanding the sense of direction when they choose to exist as they lend themselves for people to reachthe
Weightless, as if the sun has burntties, unburnt loving raw connectionsgiving people the nudge to move stairless climbs into what others might call the impossible resistance to power.Imponderable, he climbs the insides of the wrong stomach, rou
FishShe got on the local train, settled for one seat, no one seated right next to her. Within seconds, she discovered the next seat was utterly splashed with dry mud stains. Next, on the other row of seats, an old man, a fisherman, an angler, w
As this is a reading of Haruki Murakami's short story "Concerning the Sound of a Train Whistle in the Night or On the Efficacy of Fiction", there will be no transcript other than the cover picture for the episode. I hope you enjoy the short sto
She'll find peacein the greens and reds and nothing in-betweenin the paper tissues for tears after tears that soak spilt water making it one with themin the blood nebulae that float magically in body tissues, broken, exploded into pieces, magne
Born. Childhood. Raised. His adulthood not up to the bar. They didn't build themselves up nor their houses by mixing clay with crumbs of bread. How then? Sold their hearts when they left their lands. Sold them. All. Not a single dime of their s
harassed down a lane. The setting sunthrough the dusty midsummer landscapeslipping past weary, unnoticed beauty,dissatisfied, cynical.The hopes of youth - ulcers arguing, speaking,self-absorbed, not even noticing how stubborn.On the crest of a
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