The Dark Angels are a come and go crew. They create then disappear like street art. Their works exist in fragments, particles that float, dust motes that spin before the wind that blows them to faraway places. They are individuals that work as one. Deep as oceans, as impenetrable as the night. Art urchins and poets, they dissolve before they form. They are the Dark Angels, they are discharge. They are a bloody mouthful.

Friday 1 April 2011

NO
NO
NO
NO DELIVERY CHARGES
NONE
AS
AS PER
AS
NONE
NA
SPREADSHEET SUPPLIED
NONE
NO

The worm professes to know all there is to know but the eagle-eyed technophile bites into his bytesSmitten by the deceit of the now that seduces us all with scales of green.
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3 comments:

Ruela said...

hi C.J.

1 April 2011 at 10:38
Oilsforfun said...

HELLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
This already looks promissing
heigher and higher

1 April 2011 at 11:06
Robert said...

Set the first part to music

1 April 2011 at 11:40

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