Afflatus Armillus-=

the yawning years on this death row have dealt yet another blow-= my heart was beating so slow a certain dr.loller says it's a miracle i survived-= perhaps fate does have a way with ups-= this might be download periods and lugubrious blathering but as of October 11 i had terror filled with surprise electric chest pains-= and i was not exactly wet-= i managed somehow though to become progressive-= to see upwards and inwards-= to be able to lay down accidental like until the bulls arrived-= i came to many a definite moisteners later and still saw many ways down the dark Monday of October-= however they were 19 strong and i was sent over to escape the horrific dilapidating body episodes-= i was in the CCU [Cardiac Care Unit] of the prison-= my Mercury sucks and shucks have become my far corner of concern-= i had blood to return to-= seems things went okay until at the end of the cardiogram-= strange especially since a heart monitor started dehumanising me on my pressure points-= see some believe in surprises but the past will only last when it is clearly my last hurrah-= when he heard odd utterances that my shattered will was as normal dizzy and nauseous as any other animal they think they have broken you-= but since becoming shock proof the decision to play and drift in out of the fact that some news of Leda's accident arrived to my ears-= i have realised that there is nothing to chest pains but selfishness which entails arrogance-= and none of these petty grievances are for me-=

still, particular persons continue on in the hospitals where certain interests rest-= it's the sense of hierarchal values that tests with x-rays nonetheless, that make some feel important-= i guess it only serves to make me give the evil eye and have no control over certain tremors that life has given me absurd-= said one prisoner "i am able to keep Wednesday afternoon"-= which sounded like a damn good idea to me-=

they are trying to buy me by leaving me in a cold suffering shed-= giving me some fluid pills to get rid of the moisture around my heart-= but here shocking occurrences of consciousness seem almost humorously shorter-= i am not as bad as before-= i don't adjust to new situations very well-= stuck on the self help mood-= trying to make some sense out of senselessness-=

when a certain dr. Loller lowered one oral orientation on the nonvalue of genuine tears for the cardiogram-= everything to argue with had been turned down-= in the Emergency [where there are many things to watch] any movement of little adversity is turned into designer fraud for animals-= how absurd it all seems peering out from the isolation ward-= i am the direction pointing a stubby finger-= you have known this for a long time-= you remember the fade to black-?= dwell in the shadow Armillus-= the light of fires can burn-= the black of darkness soothe-= we are the new animals-= weary of the old optic-= no breaking down now-= to be me to be you to be a body of weakness succumbing to the strength in mind-= i have snacks when i want them-= mostly though i just sit around and read the news sites-=

now, timorous sesquipedalian retreat back to machine washables and other modern days uses of frantic effrontery-= where the missions of dead souls grow old in the mind fields of conditioning-= shadows of consciousness writhing in a pool of sweat-= quite a lot of "Information" i obtained from these diaries-= seems he survived, but i think his conscience died-= lesions of the brain-= a casualty of terror-= casualty through terror-= prone to the odd flare up-= part of him closed off before he was five-= what was left was tyrannical patriarchal and prone to delinquency-= he was a bright sensitive boy-= who shovelled very little coal into the fires of that which beget his progeny-=

charmed by his reason to live-= a life long incorrigible-= afflicted with severe sociopathy-= he began to see the way it really was-= began to peer through the corners of concern and slice the dimensions of vision into the mesh of death's true chalk circle swirling-=

now, from what i understand of this next part he seems to be using the concept of word virus as a metaphor for its awesome sanctity-= saying that

"the word is an autonomous organism-= a dupe of the mind that came before the spoken word-= perpetually cloning itself on an infinite whirling ladder-= word is independent of thought or action-= flows on its own-= all we do is capture it like fish in mid swim-= words are compulsive-= that's one of the things that makes meditation a difficult but rewarding practise-= shutting off the flow of words is more rejuvenating than even the deepest sleep-= but the words will not cease unless we will them to do so-= they keep replicating and regrouping-= leaping over themselves and convoluting the systems into what conditionally has become known as "Reality"-= but the eyeballs deceive-= give a false representation of what is really there-= the passage into everything that makes us human is an elaborate rite of consciousness-= what the words say and what the eyeballs see is false-= there is only what you see and what you say-= you are the host for language-= the host for your eyeballs-= you can tell them both to leave any time you like"-=

he then goes on in an infinite length accusing the retina of treason-= even goes so far as to say that the retina itself is like the word, a separate entity-= he curses the old optic passionately for dreadful ocular lies-= but he juggles these ideas-= some of these budding theories peter out-= he wheedle fiddles his way through-= taking rat jobs of NetWorks' fine hobby conditioning and negotiating his way-= for extra money on the side he maybe performs a little skitter here a little murder there-= he was brightly scathed by a life of passionate pain-= lived to see life's final gurgle worble many many times-= if the beginning was the word then what came before it-= he slammed down the grease of repugnance and went on dancing down the grape vine of levity-= having rejoinders with lustful energy-= generously taking what ever platter of flesh meshed with his mess-= though hitting is not smashing-= smashing lasts longer like a blood gush up the neck stump-= after finding the lipless dead body in the woods if ever limping he saw a lonely person he would gag bag then drag them into the woods for some of that old sylvatic give get rip flesh and undress business-= twitch boy suicidal grew towards a tendency for more-= more beer fear fun and slaughter kicks-= to replicate the surging adrenalin high he received from cajoling a struggler-= submission is a drug-= to sniff em out and snuff em out-= he needs to have a vehicle where he is in the drivers seat-= finally landed a job in a film store-= working for a certain controlling curiosity by the name of Ed Vardy-= renting out stroke and poke flicks to the lonely and degenerate-=

but enough of that safety in the past business-= the senses have been exposed for the false visions they implore-=

so glad and abashed to hear of the progress and conquest that is Hermiones' grace and garnishing-= upon the third month shave her golden mane and burn it mixed with cinnamon-= on that same day pierce her lips with needles dipped in the blood of an infant-= once the piercing is complete stand her up and have her spin on the spot until she passes out on the floor-= then cover her up and let her lay there until the next morning-= this then will be the beginning of the next phase-=

have been sending Hermione my once a month download confabs and joyously receiving hers-= judging from her last download all seems in order-= you have my belief Lucius-= it is famished and wants to bask in the warmth of her blood-= i can feel it growling gaping vortex in the void-= i just wish i could be there to see it-= fine fine and still better-= tomorrow is another day and that is the day we greet�= i expire in a year from now-= the dark groping for the darkness-= through Hermione my blood will flow with the certainty of rejoicing-= a body within a body of bodies-= i divide in you as you do me-= hers and yours are the hope i swing on-= the ladder i climb upon-= one cannot fly ladders with rope-= our vice becomes their virtue-= forget what you know and what you think you know-= knowledge is the residue of experience-=