Truth be told, I was skeptical. Was this worth the cowry shell equivalent? My mind was a dry skin covered foot caught on a fleece blanket. My tongue, lined with the taste of that earthy bile. Distant isles between Alaska and Ayahuasca, but it all comes rushing back. Jungle visions. - I take ten sickly steps toward the teetering ethereal edge. - She's once again lined with that finespun glow. I'm once again letting the little things go. She's letting me know for the very first time. I'm struggling to find words for the very last rhyme. - Trudging tip-toed through the nonlinear narrative; elegantly elephantine. - Lick your wounds, traveler. Set your eyes to the pale star's gleam. Dogma unraveller with an elementary scheme. We are nature's instruments. We are watchers in the night. Softened slightly by the dissonance of the dearly departed Wight. - He's slipping in and out. Orbium linguam avium. Labra lege: hic sunt dracones. Let us dine on cremated elves. - m sw ll w ng sw rds nd st rs. R zn hdzooldrmt hdliwh zmw hgzih. I a a o i o a a . I am swallowing swords and stars. - .ecnatsbus em evig dna eniltuo ym nekraD .savnac eruza siht otno seye s'ti tsac dluow nuS eht hsiw I ?suhpysiS fo redluob eht I mA .noitcerid gnorw eht ni gnilbmut no peek I - We're sailing on the calmest of waters, but there is not a drop to drink. Bad news for the boy who only rejects omens. I will not hang a dead bird around my neck. Retrace the lace and my hazy days of habit, then let me know your honest opinion. Exhibit an execution by exsiccation of the most exuberant exiles. Or am I the only one who's thirsty? - Who here is the ghost? I know **** well it's not me. Who said that? I know I did. Didn't I? Couldn't be. Am I?No. Hopper, this isn't sinking in. I am not a liar. - 0111011101100101
0110110101100001011000110110100001101001011011100110010101110011 - I was supposed to be writing something down. Some kind of secret; some kind of rune. Can you help me find our primal core? Your carnal truths are mine to keep. Weren't you supposed to be going somewhere? The flea burrow, no, The Doubling House. For in those halls of mold and paper walls your memories were uneagerly forged. It's time to shed your summer skin and begin to eat with your hands.