Auspicious Armillus-=

starting another download to you Lucius-= the last time your time round limped its way my hovel was many moments away-= itis nice to talk impenetrably-= miss your touch much-= i sometimes feel very alone and other than downloading retinal imagery, and composing proverbs and sermons i don't have many other activities-= i turn, the bull opens the door and i return to the bench-= all eyes expectantly on me-= because the cell was near the gate-= at 5:30 prisoners are locked in-= it is the venerable after hours recreation-= sometimes it seems like i don't have any purpose in life-= Mercury levels levelled off-= Hermione is well on her way to the understanding-= i'm just existing-= i feel like i haven't any roots-= i often feel like escaping from the "Real" world and get swallowed up by the grid-= a certain dr.Loller's "Realism" cure me toasty like a place where everything is wonderful-= at times i too must adjust to escape-= to ramble on-= to expire in one year unravelling the false conditioning like a roll of two ply toilet tissue-=

i have another job now, a Respite worker-= Hope Centre-= under the watchful fine tooth comb eyes have about 25 houses around the city-= a certain professor Ramzit conducts clone manipulation with some eye brows above the eyes and a sort of laying on the of the dna formula for cold fusion-= some 15 experiments-= worthlessly outdated replicas lingering about uncomfortable-=

when i arrive asleep most of the residents are up due to the foothold in my teachings-= Behcet's syndrome Norman is autistic, can talk, but very little-= his syndrome is characterised by recurrent oral and genital ulcers, uveitis, seronegative arthritis, and central nervous system abnormalities-= he likes to sing and dance and climb upon but in the morning i have to really push him-= his pants are alright but the involuntary ocular involvement often fulminates which results in his temporary blindness-= he is a homely little skin lesion bugger, prone to violent seizures-= but a fun body to fiddle with none the less-=

on occasion Norman will pull out his hair-= he'll yank and crank on his head until he rips out hair in bloody greasy clumps-= Norman will pick a sore until it bleeds-= until you can see a pink glistening crater just above his wrist-= the pink slime insides sort of fluttering there-= but best of all if you don't watch the little defect he'll blow his nose till his brains gush out his nostrils-= Leda grins for weeks watching Norman obsess about things-= such as his computer games and his tune box-= he mutter prowls around the house mumbling about the past which he knows nothing about-= and sometimes when's she's feeling festive Leda miss Leda miss imaginative dazzling Ophelia-= will gather together a few flock members in the middle of the night and wake Norman up so to perform her infamous toothpaste routine-= it's a simple gag really-= Leda has some twenty devotee's squeeze into the small bathroom with only one candle for light-= she then starts filling every orifice of Norman with spearmint flavoured toothpaste-= his mouth his nostrils his ears his anus and so on-= she then turns on a 100 watt strobe light flickering at 50 clicks per second-= weary of the old optic-= the quicksilver flashes of cold light slice the crowds movements so that light and darkness no longer opposes one another-= so that the retinal imagery sees neither light nor darkness but a third "Real it y"-= pellucid diaphony to see here clear through to me-= tessellations splayed open in a flicker shine glow of brilliance-=

prone to seizures Norman begins shaking and frothing like rabies run amok-= Leda takes off all her clothes and sits down on him-= like a human vibrator buzzing on the porcelain she begins moaning bone throes and alpha codes-= the high the height the jittering ecstasy mindlessly clinging to the jeering head nodding crowd-= Leda enticed them to scream the orgasm-= to shift their consciousness into countless kaleidoscopic multiverses-= the swooning devotee's carom wave after wave of they know not what-= the crowded bathroom fills with the odour of musty sweat-= the devotees disrobe-= without touching his genitals a young boy spurts hot goop gobs of sperm into the air-= a jet stream stutter spurting through the strobe lands on the face of a swooning female devotee-= orgasms begin going off in every direction-= fireworks crackling colours and crashes-= moans and groans of ecstasy and swoons-= orifices stuffed with tools of exemplary gratification-= friction sweat pelting grind grit grin and pleasure-= like a mouse in the mouth of a mule dazzled Norman thrashes hopelessly-= verily he explodes as each orifice erupts in a gush of green custard coloured discharge that splatters the whole flock bathroom tile and sink-= covered in this disgusting smelly sludge the devotees swoon through the rest of the night-= it was quite the trip i tell you-=

i get Tandre our local Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease case up at 7:45 am-= [was it you Armillus who told me that Creutzfeldt Jakob disease was once prevalent amongst the cannibals of New Guinea?]-= anywho tumescent Tandre is autistic, doesn't talk too good and has a tendency to scratch or poke people in the eyes-= when she does that i strap her hands behind her back-= i appreciate her enthusiasm but not the scars as a result of it-=

besides a tumour infested body our tawdry Tandre has myoclonic fasciculations-= which is a fancy way of saying she tremble twitches and writhes like a slithering snake in the underbrush-= still, she can dress herself and get her own breakfast, but she usually leaves a mess after she is done-= some dances one cannot follow-=

when she is climbed and danced and walked upon she can be crying and very sullen-= but her favourite activity is bowling-= we have a set special small plastic set that she plays with for hours upon end-= this one day Behcet's syndrome Norman comes clomping over to Tandre and picks up one of her plastic pins-= it didn't take much until paroxysms with high voltages and slow waves of rage rippled up Tandre's spine-= she stagger stormed over to Norman, picked up a pin and began flailing him in the head with the plastic-= she would only connect every third shot or so but Norman couldn't seem to grasp the correct direction to duck his way out of the attack-= Tandre is very possessive about her things and gets really upset when anybody touches them-= Norman just never figured this one out-= on this particular occasion i let them go a good long while-= until Norman had passed out and Tandre no longer standing was still attempting to beat him with the plastic pin-= i stepped in and cleaned up the mess-= taking Norman upstairs to bed and Tandre downstairs for a lesson in associational behaviour and the basic academic respect of team work-= i tell you of strange gratuitous aspirations-= bob throbbing shrieks of dementia from the festering lips of tumescent Tandre-= you can't have dementia without tears-= pleasure without pain-= kissing goes by favour and the eclectic butter melt strangulations of the flock's fears once again waxed over-=

Tandre was to be the first sacrifice witnessed by an auspicious flock member by the name of Nubile Durkin-= a body within a body bodies-= he was some mid century runaway-= hung up on old style narcotics-= brought along his own version of slump dust-= our vice becomes their virtue-= he had a sort of laying on of the hands-= eye twitch above the eybrow and all that snorting heady love trip business-= he was mostly filled with horripilation and shock towards the end-= a good guy going-= but his entrance left something to be desired-=

i allow certian flock privalages with the remaining clones-= they can have snacks when they want them-= however Nubile Durkin diddle riddled Tandre with a tad bit too much enthusiasm-= it was decided that this over zealous ghoul should be weeded out-=

so Durkin along with Tandre our local Creutzfeldt Jakob case were allowed to experience the euphonious rattle of the last of life's gurgles-= side by side they spent their last hours impaled on a stake-= while below them Leda the flock and i played endless games of bowling using Tandre's lobbed off hand as a bowling ball-=

blindly obtuse-= probably more heart felt than wiping sentiment-= the sick fix of some unbeliever strolls past my cell-= some find no foothold in my teachings-= fine fine and still better-= it harbours no grudge nor grievance-= to be a body in a bag in a pig shed-= many climb high to be-= trampling over the corpses of grimacing evil dreaders-= weary of the old optic we strip the light fandango-= sing the slow down-= bask in "Information" Lucius-= kissing goes by the hope you swing on-=