producingnightmares

[producingnightmares]

TH0UGHTz

As the days get longer and the fights become bloodier, the man sits and ponders multiple scenarios. He thinks to himself while his brains jolting at a million neutrons a second. He thinks “What if I was that person who always helped other people? What if I was that person that kept beating the shit out of the school kids? What if I was that person who didn’t have food to eat? Whose responsibility is it to make sure all the people in the village have water to bath?” The man thinks himself into a spiral of thoughts and ideas. Everything is hypothetical, everything relies on a pretext and most of the ideas are unique. The man sits alone and ponders in the wee hours of the night.

[producingnightmares]

C0l0URz

There was once a blue man, there once was a green man, and also a purple man. The blue man asks the purple man where’s the red man. The purple man responds with “oh I have no idea, I saw him grabbing milk and eggs at the bakery earlier.” The green man asks “hey has anyone seen yellow man?” The blue man responds “oh I don’t know, I saw that bastard grabbing a drink at the bar this morning. Guy couldn’t even walk straight.” Orange man walks up to the group and says “man you couldn’t imagine how gay my day was today.” They all sit and crack a beer.

[producingnightmares]

B1AK KNIGHT

Dressed in all black, the women asks the man. "Aren't you too old to be playing pretend?" The man nods and zips up his black jacket. The man is slim, built, and moves like water. The man steps out into the unforsaken night of the world and begins to walk down the dirt walkway. He looks to his right and no ones there. He looks to the left and sees a little fire in the distance. He keeps trekking until he finds another man in all black.

[producingnightmares]

Say hello to Bad Quality ✌️️ • Photo by: @s.n_hashimoto #stancenation

[producingnightmares]

The Flood of 1994, Albany, Georgia, disinterred 438 caskets.

[producingnightmares]

Someone taps and someone dances... Check the beat and rewind the image...

[producingnightmares]

Insert white noise

[producingnightmares]

WAR KN1GHTS

A samurai has his sword strapped on his arm, dangling by his side, hat blocking the sun of 1000 moons blaring down, only reaching the precise paper thin curve of his blade. The samurai walks with the humid heat, he doesn’t sweat, he doesn’t think, he walks with his heart bumping at a normal pace. He stops for a second, picks a flower from a side - wooden garden. Smells it while steady on his block sandals. Bends over then half heartedly throws it on the ground. He straightens back up making sure to keep walking. The samurai is ready for the Warriors Night, knowing that this specific night will be a long, tiring, grueling night, where only the most durable fighters make it, and through the night, when the quarrels take place, and after all the blood is shed, not a single whisper is spoken from the towns people of the escaping warriors in the different regions. The samurai takes in some air from his nostrils, then exhales through his lungs.

[producingnightmares]

M0NSTER FR3NZIE

The nights bright, lit up with neon tubes of fabulous light, hints of blue, pink, and purple flow throughout the dimly lit room. There's smells of lemons and cookies throughout the air, and there's lobster laying on the table, surrounded by delicious shrimp cocktails and gigantic crab legs. The center piece is a 4 foot dragon made out of ice with the most minute details which one could think of, right from the whiskers down to the little pores. There's monsters in the room, hundreds of them. Ranging from short furry goblins with big heads to tall skinny feline creatures to big balls of blub. Some of the monsters are waving there hands, some of them are conversing, and then some of them are observing other monsters. The night ends up abruptly with the monsters being completely shown with bright, super bright-white lights and the monsters freeze. They all walk out of the room into the city.

[producingnightmares]

Woke up today with the pure thought of getting some pussy. Not because I haven't gotten laid in a while, more because I wake up hoping to accomplish something everyday. I could have watched the usual tenicle porn that I usually do when I wake up and go to bed, but I much rather tear some guts up. In my dedicated mind state, I hopped on every social media outlet I have. I'm talking about my face, Twitter, bumblee, Instagram, and I started a conversation with every single girl in my rolodex with "hey, how are you doing today?" As strange as it seems not a single bitch replied. I had to switch my game plan up, I mean, I'm infamous for being a pussy destroyer. So I switched up and started the conversation with "hey, you want to be naked together?" The darnest thing happened. Most these birches replied with "lol, no." Then I had one conversation where she's entertaining the idea. She hit me with "lol, oh yeah? You know I have a boyfriend loser." I was like "look, I know. But I know he's a complete and utter douchebag and you don't want to be naked with him as much as you want to be naked with me." I sent it. My average dick turned into a small dick. I saw the three little dots pop up when the other persons typing and nearly cut off my penis awaiting the response. She erased whatever she was typing, probably "okay well I'll be over in five." But instead she sent me "... U don't even know him anymore, that was way back then. He's better now. I'll tell you about it at the park." Yo. She took the bait, I don't even know her boyfriend, I dun even want to meet this chick. Straight up, she's 199lbs blonde and wears enough make up for 10 normal bitches. I'm talking about this type of bitch to sell handmade necklaces made out of soda cans online. I ain't going to the park, aboutta go to the grocery store and see which ladies need some help cooking. Bitches love men who cook. Roger out.

[producingnightmares]

HiDrant Sprintz

The day's blur together like a foggy morning. The only thing shining through are the street lamps. As you sprint down the road, hurdling over fire hydrants, ask yourself. Why are you really running? Is it to see the other side of the fog? Or is to get to the other side of town where the commotion is? Or is it even because you're actually exercising during the late night morning? Whatever the reason may be, don't stop running and don't stop to think.

[producingnightmares]

TimeNote #1

The day's drawn up from the evening, The land is always scheming and when it's your turn they leave you seasoned, I'm Porsche dreamin with the rims gleamin, I put it on the timeline to rewind and just go as fast as I can till I'm completely blind, wrote this at 2:29 yeah I've been fine, spit it back n see if it's a true line.

[producingnightmares]

roUtine$

The day ends with a bed full of empty beer bottles and crumbs from pizza crust. There's a naked man laying in the middle and a women somewhere else in the room, probably in the closet. The guy sleeps and mumbles, dreams about blue grass and green skies, walking down the purple road passing the yellow and pink houses, and it's so surreal. The man wakes up not differentiating reality from dreams so infact he never dreams. He's just trapped in his animated routine that has the same background and the same scenes, and also the same bed. The man wakes up and bites some leftover crust. He heads to the kitchen and grabs a bottled brew and starts his day by venturing out. In the same exact routine without brushing his teeth, because the man only has one tooth.so he does this day in and day out, one day after another, and he never adds anything new in, doesn't take anything out, and just follows the routine day after day until the colors fade and the scenery is filled with coffee stains.

[producingnightmares]

CLArK KENt

The day's starts off windy as hell. The house shakes, the leaves blow, and the apples fall down from the tree. Half the apples on the tree have worms and sickening spots on them, the other half are crisp and delicious, and they're all green. I walk outside onto my porch and pull out what is about to be an obsolete item, put it in my mouth, and proceed to light it with my decorated lighter. I try and spark it the first time and could not get it to light, I spark it again and get a flame and it goes out, the third time I put my head in my shirt and light it in my turquoise shirt and take a puff and smoke comes from where my heads suppose to be. I take my head and maneuver it into the hole and stand against the wind feeling like Clark Kent and drag my continuing obsolete item.

[producingnightmares]

2.29.16

A memoir of the terror of the outside world, where the air is fridge and the air is brisk. The towns people chatter and gossip about the men who don’t have jobs, have no education, and frequent the bar. The fair ladies churn butter and can’t seem to be bothered. This is the life of terror, the reality of society, the beast of the earth, the blister of the universe. This is the nightmares of reality.