No switching, no repetition, no following through…
as if attempting to keep things steady.
(to recap on more definitions of the obvious. A necessity in these unusual times.)
Sunday reconvening.18.37
I rolled up my sleeves, sucked in my belly and decided not to have that extra cup of coffee. There was that all too familiar muted silence tangling about my ears.
So close and yet, and yet…
(see above notes)

And face down onto the page and even more ideas about the crux of this
and the guts of that.
In search of the thread that would carry me through.
(the horrible nonsense of the corrupt authoritarian rule… smashing what finally was built up through the years where we at last began to believe in the globalist ideal for humanity)
Ensuing the fine and fancy ideal of false escapes by lateral movement.

Always looking for an alternative, Always looking for a way out.

(leading up to the Alien intro, what better space/place?) [4th work pp.93]
… the gnash as a swift kick hiccup sent shudders through the illusion of time and space…
a velvety tickle the only pleasant side effect…
a super nova…
a dizzy spell…
or perhaps just someone to play with…

as passing between one stepping stone of consciousness and another, in a period where all the lemminglike races were busying themselves for the great suicidal onslaught, with party fun and games and plenty of stolen wisdom…

a reliable friend was about to become manifest…

heard tell about some far off shake down from them there hills…

soft burn smell from the swipe of a few weeks of nonstop nor ’west come sour looks from passers by on the streets, or questioning looks from the teachers who held my secret, my closely guarded secret…

and echoes had a habit, ring out big words and sneezes had a habit and my only boyfriend bought a motorbike close to then, and before we knew it our time was more or less localized…

yes, ‘twas an ideal summer on many of the planets scattered throughout the Crab nebular…

just a lot of gas they told us at school…

and I prayed desperately at nights while ignoring the hormonal splurge from within my body…

me being the girl in the story, catch on..?

Copyright © Graeme Perrin 2023