How to go fishing in the sea

This is how

/-/-/- 3ND I'm living in the water, but I can only see the surface. He has a monofluorotone sort of personality. Like a deck of cards, or a book read in 5 seckondz. Nothing special at a painfully high frame rate; whitelight. /-/-/- Looked out the windo saw nothing. / Motha said don't throw stones. Sorry. - Sometimes I think I'm a just a phish in the sea. from now on my name is Phish. Everyone has to call me Phish because I live in the ocean. Time for work. Swim to work. Work. Swim home. Home. Sleep. Swim asleep. Sleep. Wake. Swim. Swim awake. Good day, goodnight. - Had a strange dream last night. I was a phish. In a museum I swam through the aisles of blank portraiTs and monuments to nothing. People appeared but didn't stay. Nobody was wearing socks. Things felt black. Tunnel vision. - Today I think I have to do a thing. I don't know when. Perhaps it'll come to me when I'm walking up the stairs. Or when I pour orange juice from a carton. Or when I eat my breakfast or when I sit down or when I sit up and fall over[im a phish_]That's it! I remember now. I'm a phish. A phish in the sea. - I swam down to the pier th'smorning to see what was what. It was. The water was blue and the pier was brown. The wood was sad but wholesome, it felt like a family that can't stop walking on circles. The water filled up my lungs but it cleansed me. I was a phish. I pretended people were talking about things and taking things from each other and felt separated from reality by an unfocused wall. It was a tentacesscant mutual exchange of substitute placeholders. Squares for circles, diamonds for squares, circles and diamonds make an octagon. Circles and squares make a curse, diamonds and squares make a blessing. Triangles only come in hell. I try to make things interesting but it doesn't always work. Maybe if my name was Terry my life would be different. Maybe if I was a Phish my life would be the same. - Maybe if I worked in a bakery my life would be different, smelling fresh warmth. Bread like the blood of your family. It's warm and you love it, but so beautiful it's wrong. Maybe I could live next door to myself, finally be someone. Make something of myself. Have a practice next door to myself, then finally get to be someone. Make something of myself. Have a practice adjacent, and get a second chance. Make life feel false. Make us feel good. -/-/-/Girls in swimsuits swim in pools. Clear pools with light aqua foam bottoms. And marbellite bases too. Filter systems intricate and fragile to their own degree of ignorant necessity. Girls in swimsuits dive from boards and cut the water. The chlorine infiltrates your luscious hair. Fill the gaps and take a breath. You're streamlined enough and you're ready. You could be everything and by all accounts amount to the sum of nothing. - - Time for the climax. Things are referenced and you aren't sure if it's all false, coming in a flash maybe it feels forced now, but oh well it's too late to look back. Try as you might. Maybe you could sneak around the back of the school. I won't come because I don't like the undertones. My buddies took me near a wall. I don't want to understate myself but I'm more afraid of being blatant than I am proud of being clever. I felt like the morrow was upon me as I stood on the oval. Perhaps I was just practicing. It felt real. Things were vivid. Colours were crisp, and the trees tensed up at the sight of an infomercial. An imaginary viewpoint revolved around me, experiencing the acute intensity of the inversely static fluidity of the air. It felt too thin, but moving was still a challenge. Maybe I was here for a reason. Wait; I'm standing on a school oval at sunrise, just waiting. Waiting for what? Trying to remember. I'm seeing paintings and sculptures, where am I? Floating, white room black canvas. I'm in the museum. This time I'm an exhibit. Now I'm starting to realise. Over the hill I can see people. It's cold and they are running, listen to your heart beating no time. Manipulate the elements until you equalise. Eat the surroundings. Know. Stop... Run Don't stop It's a chase Past the building it's brown and purple Corrugated iron lives in my head! Now! Like the wildlife! Run from the species! Run from the men! Go to the Bilby sanctuary remember your childhood this is where you are safe don't move but never stop sometimes in ends like Phish, This has been a monoflourotone story, When you live in the water but only see the surface. Read the blip. Feel the temptation to fly like a kite. Like a book or a pack of cards dealt in ten sekonds. Nothing at a rate. Whitelight blackness, let me out I have nothing left, But bliss ~<<