fausta labbra ıı

 

theres a cilice dispensary nearby and she grabs a fresh one and wipes herself with it ouch and descends in the absence of sun or moon electricity or stars though her meat now almost wholly replaced with light provides alternative navigational guidance so she can deal with the tritium staircase without tripping and noticing some other meatlight ascending toward her around a corner backs into a rhodium alcove and waits 

for the the polloi thats gross and its gross and they say gross gross and hence they flee to the notgross which isnt truly truly the notgross as they believe in the schisms of their glorified minds but just more of the gross so this fleeing this notgross these are gross the transfigurations welladvanced and no meat remains and she says hey hows it goin and they say but i say the grosss interesting though interestings not the right how do we put it selection though selections also not yet the real questions is interesting gross which if its at all places us in spaces of collapsing fractals which isnt bad no not at all these ruined topological successions and in such moments i refer specifically and eminently to heresiarch imam ibn yayyab ishaq ali abdalaba abul bin bayt zayd ibn sina ibn yaqub al mamum bin ibn alal zarqik nib nib kharamazoo rashids treatise on a treatise on a gırıh set aside for some revolutions in the architectures of oneiric landscapes in our manifesta on apophatic unities who says and i recite according to my talents in these troubled eternities and the other meatlight fades and she goes on and the air might be nonexistent but she has no need to breathe and passes 2 in a gazement doing 69 earthrites and though their lightmouths are full and busy words emit from each and yea they speak if this be speaking simultaneously but she understands them both equally if understanding here can be said to have much meaning

sayeth the top for have i not walked the marrow path and set aside the fungibles and fungibilities and done what the sidewalk slogans recommended and undone the commandments of the forceful and seen shapes in unknowing clouds and taken them in me like a vacuum and still gone on dear lord adonai of the utterances so why though why we knows been omitted am i doing this 69 for so many kalpas though time we knows been subsumed and even though it relentlessly feels so incredibly amazing the best 69 ive ever had without respite every single seconds mindshatteringly psychedelically fantastic though we know seconds have been disbanded why have you not dear lord adonai of the utterances restored me to my rightful place among the devout and suffering and zealous and placed me in the chair of the cuntvent moanastery where the alignment of attributes ascends

the critic like the artist it requires for food and fuel resides uncomfortably in spaces that while we cant quite say decimate the object of its inquiry at least warp it to a point in which the position of judgement is so compromised any insight that might be claimed regardless of the receptivity or lack of any audience or none becomes like one of those dodgems thats lost its pantograph to the grid in the chintzy tin sparky ceiling and become autonomous and behold goes merrily or not away from its enclosure the only home its ever known down some path reserved for personnel and crashes into one of those trams reserved for the sessile sayeth the bottom

and she watches how its done in these different bongitudes and gets turned on though how being almost all but light could she remain in any state other than being perpetually turned on but even if offs no longer an option with darkness being broken even as dream and memory all this circumbonkalating in geometries unencountered in that fading outrage and finds an endohedralium stik in her radiance and uses it to probe their orifices though as you might imagine much of the probings guesswork as whats a hole when all is hole and one has become what its always been no more

and she leaves the 69ers behind and comes to a vast palladious square which appears as the embodiment of emptiness itself and enfolded within it a small huddle of meatlights gathering at far taboo and realizes shes forgotten entirely about her question and why she came here in the first place and heads directly for the huddle determined to remember and ask and obtain an answer and accordingly proceed and as she approaches they are what can only be considered singing though of such a nature as to redefine sound unacceptable in anything called a dictionary in the realms called normal and she cant help herself the draws galactically magnetic and joins and each wavicle of her shimmering lights orgasmic past all points of pain and she dies more times than has ever been speculated as possible from any of the texts purporting to be wise and this their song though the translation as you knows callow

we shimmers of light of goderite

nothing ruined nothing worked

reach and move within without

what never our berserk and smirk

to huddle in this polonium

means whoever of our murked taboo

not or not bridges dialogue

huddle this in that asylum

huddle far huddle near

humming hums of goderite

who would could waves of might

who lacking ears let here

and disrepresentations from a dispatch of perpetualis electromagnetic radiation come and shes chained to a phalluslight for a thousand years and each eternitys a day and each day a gag and each gag an abyss of bliss and each abyss a piece of a puzzle not yet fathomed or constructed and upon release shes carried in a rrheaium tesseract and dumped in a flufferite