Mike Sims – Twin Peaks


Initial sparks resonate as a thumbprint in the sky. Beautiful and cloud-like, impregnating the air.

Music as a means of organizing universal vowel language. Sparse territories. It is fascinating that certain phrases affect states of minds. Gentle pulsations that trigger modal thought. There is a brief chasm that provides necessary dramatic release of brain tension; potential for limitless decay of brain matter.

Nothing is. The need for war and dominance is something really old; a reptilian facade. The great cosmic joke. The human voice, for whatever reason, draws us back into the entanglement of the sense apparatus. Disliking something leads to the projected waveform of the collapsing frames. Madness is real, until reality begins the slow descent into unreality.

The unfortunate vision of the eternal scissor world.

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