- There is also love and life and hope.
- Very little hope I assure you. No. If a god of love and life ever did exist... he is long since dead. Someone... something, rules in his place.
Indifferent machines maintain the gift of breathing in a body which is still alive, scaring Death away with their viperous hiss. But the inescapable reaper is patient. He will not let go the one who dared to fall into the persona of Santa Muerte dancing with multiple shapes in a vague opiate waltz. For the others, each of these shapes is just an annoying hint somewhere on the brink of perception. The Time is slowly breaking these shapes into smoke streams until there is just two of them. However, the Time wants to amuse himself with some drama and the two splash under his iron fist. It is terrible to observe indifferent mechanisms cuddling in a car accident break human flesh in their wombs. A heart lashes like an outraged beast in a cage built by the Norns from the car frames. Resentment penetrates the most distant wormholes of capillaries. Again and again it is revived by the music that had been created to be a serenade but petrified as an engraving on a tombstone obeying someone's blind will. Laconic and infinitely beautiful music pulses and is comprehensible to everyone somewhere on a gut level. Two, just two, melodies crawl under your skullcap like two tickling keyboard worms, that have engulfed atavistic orchestration competitors on their way. The first one is seeming stable. The other is constantly mutating. The corrosive intro gives birth to Opiatta and Eve that bring forth the outro which is based on them and which grinds the previous two tracks. Those two—the intro and the outro are the two most primitive representations of Ouroboros. Simple and perfect in their simplicity organisms incarnate the life feasting in someone's death and represent the beginning and the end. What is the use of a rich arrangement? They will mill it with their rhythmic vermicular motion and leave just a familiar brief trail of keyboards.
…and the angels, all pallid, and wan, uprising, unveiling, affirm that the play is the tragedy, "Man," and its hero the Conqueror Worm.
Indifferent machines maintain the gift of breathing in a body which is still alive, scaring Death away with their viperous hiss. But the inescapable reaper is patient. He will not let go the one who dared to fall into the persona of Santa Muerte dancing with multiple shapes in a vague opiate waltz. For the others, each of these shapes is just an annoying hint somewhere on the brink of perception. The Time is slowly breaking these shapes into smoke streams until there is just two of them. However, the Time wants to amuse himself with some drama and the two splash under his iron fist. It is terrible to observe indifferent mechanisms cuddling in a car accident break human flesh in their wombs. A heart lashes like an outraged beast in a cage built by the Norns from the car frames. Resentment penetrates the most distant wormholes of capillaries. Again and again it is revived by the music that had been created to be a serenade but petrified as an engraving on a tombstone obeying someone's blind will. Laconic and infinitely beautiful music pulses and is comprehensible to everyone somewhere on a gut level. Two, just two, melodies crawl under your skullcap like two tickling keyboard worms, that have engulfed atavistic orchestration competitors on their way. The first one is seeming stable. The other is constantly mutating. The corrosive intro gives birth to Opiatta and Eve that bring forth the outro which is based on them and which grinds the previous two tracks. Those two—the intro and the outro are the two most primitive representations of Ouroboros. Simple and perfect in their simplicity organisms incarnate the life feasting in someone's death and represent the beginning and the end. What is the use of a rich arrangement? They will mill it with their rhythmic vermicular motion and leave just a familiar brief trail of keyboards.
…and the angels, all pallid, and wan, uprising, unveiling, affirm that the play is the tragedy, "Man," and its hero the Conqueror Worm.
