Guys, I think I’ve figured out how to jump the universes. All you need is a pear in one hand and deep breaths in the other and lots of chamomile rain.
Oh but good god, my dear, don’t drink the storm, it’s supposed to sink into your pores! What I mean is, I think I’ve figured out how to jumpstart the timeline by skipping down yester’s way and-
I’m over here suffocating in old June bubbles waiting for that bumblebee low, “Heyyyyy.” But over by wasp castle the guards are marching to Irish jigs yet again and I’m wondering why it is that they always speak in star-crossed numbers over here.
I’m trying to zigzag giggles past them but can’t quite sneak through and I’m starting to feel like a moontune bafoon: this is all giving me a bad case of royal flushed déjà vu.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that all this nonsense makes too much sense to this dreamsense court fool.
Photograph by Ornella Binni