M is for Octopus

There it is. God there it is. Right in my head. Sitting there in beautiful simplicity. I've got linkin park screaming in my headphones. And there it is.... right there... the groove. The wave of nothingness and everything that I road for years with such ease when I was young. There it is. Just so simple. So easy to reach. There it is. The groove. Just the groove. The ability to create something from white paper. The ability to keep going and going and going and I could keep going all night, just because. Just because I can. Yes. Its there again. Open the flood gates and feel it right there just release.
M is for Octopus: I799 words.

In my mind I'm currently standing in the widest expanse of land, there is simply nothing, just barren wasteland, broken fences and a swell of grey and black cloud trembiling for a thunderstorm. I am standing on a rock, blood pouring from my palms, fingers finally stretched open letting the wounds bleed. Locked in the deepest euphoria. The earth swallows my blood and feeds off it, dirt churns and begins vomiting the living, the wind gathers up around me and there is a silent explosion, like a hushed sigh and opening my eyes its real. Its true my sweet wasted land, your god is home.
"Welcome back to yourself. We've missed you."