06/18/04
The circle closes in on me as the symphonic sadness that birthed me anew seeps into my ears with syrupy serenity. My gaskets were blown and I was running on pistons pumping only partially. Skipped a beat, and fell down skidding to a halt before this very moment. Arms flailing in a vertigo twist, perched on the thin line between eternity and infinity.
The mind warps in the heat, bending and buckling like a 45 in the sidewalk sun. The sweat feels good, oozing and sliming out the gunk that forms the filth layer of interaction. Getting in those last few moments of immersed muck, writing the memory down as the most absolute joy of youthful abandon.
Gripping the sides of the obsidian machine, I entered the ritualistic magic word, granting access to the dementions within. The words are beaten loose from their holding. Picked seemingly at random, but the pattern emerges as the selection becomes more instinctual, more dynamic. Vocabulary increases as the nothingness of unthought becomes a buzzing and radiant beacon, beaming my message to unwitting carriers.
Buzzing like a wasp, singing and searing under my skin. My mind's horror sees the seductive insanity of spiders' legs marching to a primal beat. I revel in its fictitious effect, and have finally grasped the concept. I am beyond damnation now.
Ticking madnesz in my ears drives me towards the end of this, this monstrosity of monotony. Ready the throne, I'm coming home.
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