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she asks her question as soon as she gets here or rather not as soon as she gets here but as soon as she can when she gets here after the interminable interviewing at the gates by sans peteriña where if she starts to ask her question the right winged one cuts her off immediately and repeats the brainless line im doing the questioning cliches never die she thinks and peteriña says theres a notion out there that truth comes from argument knowledge from debate comment on this and defend your comments

i dont even give a shit about getting into this place she thinks and says often argument comes from argument and if thats a truth its a truth but from nonargument also things come and isnt truth if it is something from all things or rather everything from all somethings and the nonargument in this argument sufficient evidence

is disillusionment more a freedom or a bondage

the scales required to weigh freedom while they may exist in your sphere are so nascent in ours the only artifacts that attempt that weighing are words and words are a bondage that cant be weighed

the mores and visions on your terrestrial ball necessitate that relations and practices are formed from fuckey and money regardless of the active and ubiquitous euphemistic factories explain how youll navigate different sets of factories relations euphemisms

look i dont even care whether i get in or not

you dont have anywhere else to go

therere always other places to go

sometimes there arent these are new circumstances for you dont overestimate the transferability of any knowledge you might assume you have destinations travel geographies possibility itself here they arent what they seem

they werent really on earth either but what i came here for is do you have a

sans peteriña continues questioning and she answers as if she were a bot in a phd defense in an inquisitive apparatus so vastly intricate and anachronistic what could speak in a mode that might point however obscurely to any habitations of reason that werent simply more mounds of isolation in a network so alienated from itself even a most conscious and powerful mirror couldnt begin to reveal any semblance of meaning that wasnt just yet more munitions in grinning robes of sentiment and as she speaks automatissmo and the hollowed and incidentally upsidedown portal domina interrogates according to the orthodoxies of the dicastery for the latrine of the wraiths she scans the system of gates between her increasingly dubious flesh and her inquiry and sees porters of decreasing rank stretching to golden horizons and interrupts isnt there a way to bypass this inane system of infinite ingress and sans peteriña says while youre still sarcoid if you service me and sans 7 12 490 and 1000 use the iridious globus crucigers in the second drawer why not my middle names anathema put the ferula in my rear consecration and the crosier in the anterior and sing inno e marcia pontificale using the 1991 lavagna lyrics hurry theres a lineup

and in the service of holiness and not having much else to do she proceeds with her tasks and completes them satisfactorily without further dispute and finds herself suddenly cast into a dark narrow curving alley with a faded broken sign on chipped osmium welcome to heaven population and there it breaks shit ive still got the ferula with me where theres a jill theres a way as granny ı always says and finds a dirty doorway to finish the build off