The Eel is very proud to give you a story from the first issue of her zine. Many thanks to Counting to Zero for giving us permission to put it up on the site. To buy a copy or contact us, send queries to firstname.lastname@example.org. Enjoy!
Wishwhatever for the Here Ever After
Never had a wishwhatever, for the here ever after, with the long times and the passed me buys, couldn't buy into that secret feeling of wanting till the end of time, like I do now. Like it ever was real. However moreover moved over to the left hemisphere of taking it in spit it out til the next time, what I thought could be real; whenever brushed against the gossamer membrane breaks a broken plenty while, with the panty lies and the deep sighs and fake smiles disclosed misgivings.
But too much of the once try, bite shy, moth bitten smoked up on crack outlook of the past's time's pastimes passed me by with the won't try so maybe now could be the time to believe in the fate and the blind faith of the once hate, dear diary, smoked in a bowl and took some of the what what what what what ifs; could it be that these phantacies of dreamed up future ghosts of the past toasts oaths against switching on to the sweet reboot of the what could be?
But the never know how of the how could that be this real tripped the flick switch on those golden opps missed out upon by the one too punch drunk from the other times gets in the way of this sweet warm feeling, knowing, wanting to know this could be.
Must be some sweet path, dear dearie, for the drunk and the weary; take a look back at the sound of the memory of the needlehay sound of that which was not eavesdropped or picked upon in the piccu-niccu spreadsheet once embarked upon; looking for cognitive coordinates towards the place a starting point upon which to build the shattered remains of the possibilities of what happened when those became possible realities, probabilities given to the likelihood of that which was could have will have been broken before we get anywhere, knowing one's good fortune in the game of chance this is.
So if there could be a once would have been, how can the path be crossed without a marker?
Counting to Zero (c2z) is a phonic art graduate currently moving in synth punk circles but has also written numerous songs, poetry and prose in more traditional formats. The written word is also the artist's creative stomping ground, and an informed approach, as well as a love of language allows c2z to cut through conventional means to true expression in a futuristic yet timeless beat-style.