Step Forward And Be texts
MS Word version (60 Kb)
by S.B. Reda
Think
man thought minuscule information pieces in cylindrical squares that vibrate in
broken hue sounds, pondering caustic subtleties that flake off broken tears,
cascading in fluent terminology. Bending inference parameters that exist in
historical information paradigms, think man thought restructured precepts of
original data.
Felt
in space, behaving in time, think man thought absorbed congruous inconsistencies
from the air.
"What
is blue shall be seen as yellow. What is yellow shall never again be."
And
then uninhibited genetic reconfiguration force fed logic unhealthy doses of
cathartic analogies, leaving it staggering for stolen breaths.
Thought
man think in unusual circumstances, imposing reflective considerations over
minions of pre-fabricated triangular rectangles. Parallel authorities ingest
ceremonial sentimentalities, as thought man think borrowed from sedated memories
of digested facts. Dust covered ideas sediment compacted from pressure, clay
remorse cracks in the heat of the crystal impressions. Thought man think begged
forgiveness from elderly symptoms of a dying time.
"What
is in the past shall capitulate to the future. The future shall redefine the
past."
And
then code regressed in despair disrepair, inverting days into days again,
sterilizing the night until it was reborn.
Man
thought think beyond present second functions that caused rotate imagination to
leak drink into diagonal circles, depositing under still currents of paralyzed
contemplation. Former responses to unasked suggestions trickle steam drops into
the cyclical deposit basin. Archaic paraphernalia of broken cadavers melted in
blazing freeze, sliding chairs away from active participants, victims of Man
thought think's decision.
"What
is expected in the future shall be disputed in the past. What is predicted for
the past shall be prepared in the future."
And
then carnival smile silver wing dagger hawks descended from metallic clouds,
swollen ivory talon's poised for retribution.
Think thought man
waved unrelated symbols of solemn acceptance towards hollow sockets etched in
water. Alcohol sweat prey on disturbed blisters, angry tampering manipulation to
be avenged. Think thought man cradled hollow secrets in his finger, shielding it
from advancing molecules, fraught with disastrous intentions. Isolated pain
reverberations ascended electrical impulses, translation feedback violent
screams. Iron meetings thunder with every blink, Think thought man ushers in the
recession of life by spoiling his death.
from
the book “A Reflection of Shadow’s Eyes”
All flash none stay the same forever to absurd drive
random peculiarity music. Renumerate,
decompose, and more!
Curiosity liversnake pronounces synonyms of hypnotic texture. Trophy rainbowlike weathergnome crawls underneath.
Metaphysical value-swallowers gnaw at the hints of forgetfulness.
Saliva-wet, the Abnormall sits godlike within.
Everything is to be continued.
Elusive jewel-kneels enter through the adore door pestering glowing
gorgon torsos. The fun begins.
Renumerate, decompose, and more.
The Abnormall raises a finger, flesh glowing in the underlight.
Pictures of time come alive, spitting images at the faces of gorillas.
Non‑existence appears vivid in the mirror of tomorrow.
Everything to be continued.
I sneak in. I leave my body
behind and dive into the swirl of motion. Let's
see who will have more fun!
Maybe tomorrow maybe today answer the question of words. Maybe today maybe tomorrow talk in the language of emptiness.
I will talk to you tomorrow, and you will listen to me yesterday.
Your replies will come to me on the waves of reverse structure.
Renumerate, decompose, and more.
Gorgon-loving, the Abnormall strikes mentally, charging twice, then
once. Once more, twice again,
thrice forever. Nectarthirsty
no-goods cling to the Abnormall, seeking juicy wisdom.
Let's have more fun! Everything
to be continued.
Liversnakes torture the jewel-kneels, dipping into the liquid zero,
within its circle. Intentions jump
notions joggle. From inside, comes
a great splash. Poisoned
drop-split intrusion numbs limbs. All
in anesthesia paradigm, once upon forever.
I leave my soul behind and proceed.
Renumerate, decompose, and more!
The Abnormall manufactures reality, throwing events together at the
assembly line of whimsical relaxation. Let's
see who will have more fun! One,
two, and once again to the utmost. Expand
and contract to slow down the time. Gorgon
eyes witness electric current transformations, praying telepathically and
begging for forgiveness. The empty
space is sobbing non-stop, accumulating destructive energy in the absent
minds. Renumerate, decompose, and
more!
One upon a time, time completely. Never
anticipate decomposed values. Reprogram
redirect reptilian masonry. Fun,
and more!
Temporarily hunger-free, liversnakes fall about, sleepily circulating dot-marked eyes. Soul-empty, the
Abnormall dips tongue in liquid, extracting a worm.
I approach from behind and
complete. Let's see who will have
more fun! Renumerate, decompose,
and more!
Crumble stumble, upon one more so. Slowly, but unforgetful. Numbers have eyes. Letters have ears.
Approach and contact. Upon
contact, decontact. Of Abnormall's
reality do partake open-heartedly, sharing with yourself in unrestricted manner.
Let's see who will have more fun!
I leave the memory of myself behind
and proceed, now in another parlor. Joke-free,
the entwinetainers bark placidly at own reflections in puddles of blood.
Gorgons crawl about, seeking to survive.
Non-expert begins the experiment. Numbers
have teeth. Letters have claws.
Renumerate, decompose, and more! Listen
to the prophecy of the Abnormall!
The past is the past. The
future is the future. Integration
must stop! Disintegration must
begin! Approximate, establish, and
proceed! Proceed, and proceed
again!
Motionless dancing in unison forever.
As of what is known, all is to be questioned and dismembered.
And what is unknown, is to be forever cancelled.
Nothing is to remain, except for whatever proceeds in complete
contradiction with itself. The lack
of certainty is to be declared requisite!
Nothing true remains true, or false.
Nothing false retains either of the two values.
True and false become one for the rest of the time.
The rest of the time starts unexpectedly and continues indefinitely.
Proceed, and proceed again!
Attach, and un-attach!
No logic is to remain. Dissolve
and see from outside. Renumerate,
decompose, and more!
Drifting over acres of unkept brushwood, I relaxed into my infamous state
of temporary comatosis in order to remove the plugged in inhibitions that I had
gathered until that point. As the drain was cleared and the gap freed, I was
amazed by all the thoughts that went rushing by, apparently stuck behind a
useless piece of information. Not only did I not expect to have so many
thoughts, but I was also taken aback by how obviously wrong I was about my
opinions and feelings.
Or, to put it more clearly; I had been living a lie.
You see, I think that in one instance, I had all of these feelings pent
up, the ones that accurately depicted my true person. And in the second
instance, I subconsciously suppressed and then remade those feelings in order to
align myself with the conventional wisdom! To be sure, accepting conventional
wisdom has done nothing for me. But
I am not certain what following my own thinking will do for me either. I will
make installments as I continue to sift through the apparently endless stream of
thoughts and opinions that I had never considered before.
The bug slid down the water canyon that I had blissfully created with the edge of a flathead screwdriver just before the faucet opened. I dug and dug until the groove was deep enough to accommodate both a small canal of water and a tiny object (in this case, a bug). I positioned the jar beneath the groove so that the mouth of the waterway would empty into the jar. Increasing the water pressure, the bug shot into the jar at full speed, plunging under the thin layer of water that had already accumulated at the bottom of the jar. Typically not the best swimmer, this bug splashed around a bit, continuously knocking into the base and walls of the jar, until it seemed to give up and drifted in a dead man's float, carried by the mock current coming from my faucet. After spotting this banal tactic, I knew that it was still alive. I wish not to be viewed as its opponent, though.
I am simply interested in being happy, and this particular event inspires
happiness in me.
I grabbed a small pencil that I was saving for Bernadette, who sat three
seats away from me. She was a beautiful child, having just celebrated her
seventh birthday. I could simply die in the crystal glow of her cool, blue eyes.
She never spoke to me however, only passed off a polite glance. In fact, no one
really spoke to me the first few years of my life because I was moved around so
much. I was always a stranger, even to people who weren't strangers.
Well, I grabbed this pencil that I had been saving for Bernadette's
birthday gift, and poked the clever bug. As I suspected, it twitched and flapped
its wings spastically for a moment, revealing that it was as full of life as it
had been when I first knocked it out of the air some fifteen minutes ago. I
dipped the pencil into the water, placing it under the bug, attempting to coerce
it onto the pencil. I loved how the pencil (and then the bug's leg) refracted in
the water, almost as if they had snapped off at the point of immersion. The bug
got up onto the pencil, but it fell off once I raised it out of the jar,
apparently finding it difficult to adapt to diverse air pressure. After three
attempts at rescue, I gave up, and resigned myself to practicing the fundamental
art of bug-from-jar removal. So, I went onto my back porch and poured the water
onto the separated wood beams of the porch floor. Allowing all the liquid to
drain to ground, the bug floundered a bit, seemingly never regaining its
composure, wobbling in a pseudo-drunken stupor, until it fell six feet to the
ground below.
I ran to the edge and looked over, hoping to catch a glimpse of the bug
before it scampered away. As usual, I could not see that bug specifically, but I
got the sense, as other like bugs swarmed around me, that they were as happy as
I was, and were openly volunteering themselves to me.
When you wake up in the morning, and go outside, and open your umbrella
– the leaves keep falling and falling from the sky, scattered by a generous
hand – you understand: it is the fall.
It is the fall, and there is nothing you can do about it. And you keep walking, showered with multicolored signs of
this late love, and the cold that has accumulated within your soul gradually
mixes with the cold dissolved in the air, with this dank twilight, with the lazy
hiss of the fleeting wind.
But in the wintertime it snows. If
it snows, we can guess: it's wintertime. If
it's wintertime, we can guess: it will snow soon.
And there are no flowers, only the memory of flowers.
Doesn't love exist to bring us joy and pain?
– you ask yourself. This
question is out of place, isn't it? Out
of place, like all questions. Or
even more out of place than other questions.
In the summertime it doesn't snow. Or,
it does, but in altogether different parts of the world, where you have never
been. And who can prove to you that
those places actually exist?
And so, you wake up in the morning, and go outside, and open your
umbrella: it is snowing. It is
wintertime. You have guessed
earlier: when it snows, it's wintertime. You
are used to hiding under your umbrella, even from the snow.
The umbrella becomes heavy, pressed down by the white that's clinging to
it, attracted by the black. What
is the umbrella for? It's hard
to say. Are you so afraid of
getting wet? Probably just a
habit. Besides, when you were going
outside you didn't know yet that it was wintertime.
It does happen, doesn't it, that winter oozes into the room through the
window, whereas in fact it is summertime outside? It happens even more often than you think.
But what is better – joy, or pain? –
you ask yourself again. This
question is also out of place. It
has absolutely no relevance to the winter, or the summer, or even the fall.
The leaves suspended in the air cannot offer an answer.
Or is it you who is incapable to read the answer on the surface of these
leaves – on the dried surface tired of life?
Wait a minute, there is spring too, isn't there?
We forgot about spring! Why?
Because it is the fall now, and
more and more leaves keep patiently accumulating upon the indifferent ground
ready to go to sleep? Or is it
because the earth is wearing another one of its masks – the cold, non-transparent mask of snow? Or
simply because it is summertime now, and in summer it is silly to dream about
the next spring?
And so, you wake up in the morning, you go outside, and you don't know
what you are expecting to see next. It's
all the same. The snowdrifts
inviting to share in their cool oblivion? The
piles of dry leaves preparing to accept their smoky auto-da-fé?
The bright patches of flowers that have painted the boring yellow of the
fields? What if we were to mix it
all together: the leaves, the snow, the flowers?
But is it worthwhile? Does
it really make any difference?
Remember, some time ago you promised not to tell anyone¼Of
course, now you can talk away, left and right – it won't change anything.
What matters is that you promised. And
you ask yourself what the meaning of promises is, but it is an altogether silly
question, and very soon you realize it too.
And so it's snowing again. The
snow is chasing you so skillfully: wherever you try to hide, it is already
there, just as cold and just as white as ever. It is snow. It is
just frozen water. Nothing to be
afraid of! Calm down – and
it'll melt¼
Then the morning comes, and you say goodbye to the Moon, and in the
evening you say good-night to the sun. You
go outside, you open your umbrella, you don't know where you are headed.
Everything has been tried. Snow
is just snow, and even flowers are just flowers.
Not so long ago – last summer – you saw them grow.
Maybe it's still summer?
The leaves keep falling and falling, and you can't believe there could
have been so many leaves on the trees. Most
likely, love does exist for that. Or
vice versa? And pain is still
better than emptiness, especially taken together with the hissing breath of the
falling leaves, with the tender whisper of rain parting with the sky.
And you promise yourself not to ask unnecessary questions anymore.
Even about love.
You wake up in the morning, as usual; you go outside, as usual.
But the street is gone. And
the seasons are gone. There are
only the snow, the leaves, the flowers – and soft pink light warming up the
world. And already it feels as
thought everything is okay, or almost okay, and you have almost run out of
questions: some of them have been answered, the others fell off on their own. You go outside, all transparent and almost invincible. You
go outside, you keep walking and walking and walking, until you realize that
there is no more need to walk.
Just don't tell anyone, okay?
The sun blaste d away. Everything
that came on as goodd was. 2
was that morning.. And it w as
then
that that moment that left it somewhere
in the piece of airthat separated
the pockets
of
our collusionary breath..
Hands lost fingers
that no longer pointed.. Two
long until no..w..
It joined
usat the e y e s to
allow for mmaxximmumm
visual reconciliation of the brain for
the benefit of
Confused ONE
who no
longer
spoke in tongue
Yet spoke in 2 tongues..
the WORD
danced around the flicker of teeth into
the back of what
later came to be
be known
as
Them..
In
the name of In the name In the name of the Father Father Sons Sons and the and
the Holy Spirit Holy Spirit A men
Ame n..
Confuse d One sat shake and sat
again VISIONS..
morning into th e
decrepit skin
lined the
bones they held
up the
decrepit skin
that shake.. sadd
They2 impose
on his sadd
e
y e s abilty2see2..
Then One2 who left the
Other2 stood
down
before
Us
and
said
Step
Forward
And
Be..
Confused
shake more and rremovvess
2(2) bad e y e s
Mercy Mercy Be Be BE
UNTO THEE Be Unto thee Through Salvation Through S alvation
so shall you receive Drink the
drink breath
Deepp THis
This Is the
word of the LLOORRDDSS
Mercy Mercy Be Be BE UNTO
THEE Be Unto thee..
Shallow
depth where
we sat
waiting THE
Gospel t o
be said by 2..
Confused not
shake not mmovve just sat
No could not
move shock
help 2..
My
eardrum shatter that the2
covered his head..
the
peace was more p r o g r e s
s i v e now and we
could take sightof 2
Even the Confused One appeared able to connect labels. If only for that brief moment, things seemed tranquil.
There was no time for pain or sorrow.
It seemed like the right time. The
air behaved like ice, embracing the skin. We
wanted to drink it. And so it was
done.
Done By
for2..
2 leapt up as On1e and
gathere d US
SPOKe..
Dream of the impossibilities which you possess so
bring them down here and explore the
possibilities that are not here any
longer than the one who has
the time
that you no longer obsess
Me or
Him or You 2 see us 2 in the shape that we are..
The
air expanded around putting immense pressure on our bodies.
It
was
strong love that we felt.
2
stood tall still They2 movedas
One2
abo
ve
u
s
until
the time
that
it was 2 end.. It riled Each Other up to
think of the one thought
you had not yet considered when
it was so required of you to
produce in all those situations that now may never occur..
Confused one breath
then not staring
into no where waiting to blur
to see. 2..
It could be They SPOKe the
wish of chance
that We cast
long before the thought
of you.
We
drank the drin k
until it was gone ..
No more.
2
No
More
Then
spoke 2two
again
Reward Reward the the ultimate
response to the the
painful
reminder that Y O U never left
the womb you never inhabited..
This
shall be
the W W A A Y Y..
We sat stay, Confused Sat
stay still
tw2o tears
lined tw2o cheeks
t2o the
End where
we still
remained..
The
SPEAKERs in our
e a r s rang with the WORD that clamored off the empty room
we were no longer sitting
in..
We were there to hear the Gospel and so it was done. The minutes drifted into hours as the sand swept floor marked
the day. The places were set for
four as the Confused One sat in the corner and wept.
"Partake of the tea, its Leaf will guide you straight," One of
Them said.
Responding obediently, we raised the golden chalices to our lips and
swallowed the strangely hypnotic liquid.
"Drink again, " the Other commanded.
As the ritual of drinking and pouring continued, the Confused One sat in
the same position, shaking his old head each time the event was repeated.
The room began to change.
It
is you two who are the
Divine messengers
of the
of the Truth..
The
burde n tw2ice as less as
the
sum
of the former
which Father shall
cease to belabor..
And
then the once mighty
brow
will raise above
reanimated
eyes and
wink..
The Two spoke of chances into the night, eventually running over into the
morning. The chance They spoke of
related to the turning away of all matters pertaining to the well-known concept
of life. This reconsideration,
which, when done properly, aligns all events into proper focus, sets up the soul
for justification in the non-afterlife.
"Why is it to be taken as a reward?" One of us asked.
Chances.. The altogether arbitrary positioning
of chances thAt
sow the
seeds
of the lesser to promote the greater revelation to one's mind..
This sequence spins in
a
a t
t
i
o
o
r
n that begins in the E n d..
The
End is the beginning of those forces; chance End, where the moment of the
non-afterlife
is catapulted backwards..
You
see.
all items have been encrypted into special soul language
mimicking device
deeper into the scheme!
always remember . . . retaliation!
time and space dimensions
different categories of evil
full space restriction will allow only movement in time.
vertical time traveling
déjà vu premonition
zabda=non-zabda=the christ brothers
move in horizontal time
recording the
thoughts of dying people
read thoughts in
advance
the double original
real thoughts
reader
the strange toy
all-human network
souls of objects
the former man
external
information is negated
this may be the reason for our eventual demise
Ceramica
Dolll Meets The Chinaman
Ceramica Dolll dancing to the sounds of repetitive music. Clay limbs twist, rotate.
Clay fingers rotate, twist. Rotate
and twist all around. The building
begin to shake and rattle. Rattle
and shake the walls. Shake and
rattle street, city, continent. Now
the entire world dancing with Ceramica Dolll!
Dancing to evaporate! As the
landscape fall dispersed, lobotomized Dolll dancing away the future, events and
intentions fell scattered around us! Around
us scattered thoughts and memories, scattered around us situations and premonitions.
Faces and feers, facts and funny feelings!
Now the entire scope of Universe dancing with Ceramica Dolll!
You snatch a situation – thank you – pleese – thank you
– pleese – and here you are. You
are here. We are addressing you from the inside of the situation.
We are the ones who did it to the Dolll.
You know what we meen. Would
you like another one instead? Pick
any one. Or two. Take
three free if you wish! We have
plenty! Scattered and dispersed, dispersed and scattered¼
You take, you accept. You
accept, you take. Now, YOU dancing
with Ceramica Dolll!
But who knows one from another, and this from that? Who remembers the difference between? Who can still discern? Did
we ever knock upon your door without a question that could not be answered?
Have we bothered you with notions that allow practical application?
When was the last time that we made sense?
So, you interrupt the dancing. You
walk away from the window, the fall-apart exhibition left behind.
Behide in the labyrinths of life, and we shall befind you.
You shall not be alone.
But what is it? The
carnival has penetrated the Building, and now the insanetary frigs are dancing
inside. The Dolll, mounted on a bed
of human hands, is being carried in. Be
where of Ceramica Dolll!
Dancing inside we are dancing inside.
Dancing inside finally dancing inside.
Ceramica Dolll we shall take her inside, she dance for us, she dance in
front of us, before our very eyes dance Ceramica Dolll.
Hold the key to all connections in one hand, the net of time in other,
she dance. She dance, Ceramica
Dolll; clay limbs rotate, rotate, twist, twist.
Clay fingers twist, twist, rotate, rotate. Now, the Building IS Ceramica Dolll. Ancient pillars rotate, twist.
We twist, rotate among them. How
escape?
Now, snatch out of her hand what we need.
Take what we need, we need, we need.
We need to take what we need. We
need the need. Shall be insanetary
and mind-bleek. Bleek as the skin
of Ceramica Dolll. Let's snatch and
have.
Make Ceramica Dolll dance for you!
Ceramica Dolll works for us. You
know what we meen. It is we who
operate the Dolll. We are
addressing you from the inside of the moment.
You can pick any second you like. Pick
it now! Have an hour if you wish. We have plenty! The
transcendent energy of dancing is accumulating in our brains. We
want to manipulate! Operate and
rule, rule and manipulate! You
know what we meen. In transient
nowhere of our dreems blank spots of your imagination are being filled, waiting
to merge with Ceramica Dolll. We
need the Dolll to have you, but you need us to be with the Dolll!
You want to be with the Dolll.
With the Dolll you want to dance, with the Dolll you want to rotate and
twist! With the Dolll and only
with the Doll, nowhere without, no before, no after, twist and rotate forever
more. Not tomorrow, yesterday
not. No other time, no place
other. No nothing else!
Now, YOU dancing with Ceramica Dolll!
Dolll, give YOU your hand! Take
her by the hand, leed her into the circle, dance her, strangle her with music.
Take a cord, wrap around her neck. Take
a melody, wrap around her waist, waste her.
Take a note, kick her on the clay head.
Kick her head with note of music! Dancing
oblivion with Ceramica Dolll! Proclaiming
emptiness everyone be lobotomized like the Dolll!
Frustrated energy of mind let free through the hole of skull!
Let breethe air through hole, let knowledge pass in soft pleasant waves
right from the Dolll into your mind. Your
mind be open like shell.
ENTER THE CHINAMAN.
Many a time broken limbs he come. Many
a crack on his skin. He not
dancing, but jingling all over. To
the rhythm of his jingling, Ceramica Dolll now dance!
Who knows what the first what the second¼Dancing
to the music or musicing to the dance? Meenwhile,
the Chinaman, he combined of fragments and pieces, all ever broken apart now
come together within him. All
fragile, yet solid like iceberg. All
jingling, jingling moving along, minds absorbed in hypnotizing repetitive sound.
Now realize: the Chinaman has been jingling all along.
Now you can heer.
Ceramica Dolll dancing with the Chinaman, the Chinaman musicing with the
Dolll. What hold together, how come
not collapse? Hot clay love now Sex
Supreme! Orgasm forevered into
parallel times, climax projected onto all possibilities. Everywhere be Sex, no place to stay sex-free.
See shapes and feetures of future clay, the future reflected in clay, the
past burned afire.
Ceramica Dolll, she the symbol of Oneness.
The Chinaman, he the emblem of Inner Separation.
Together merge. See what you
can behold, listen to what you can heer!
Mass raw energy emitted into clay as Sex continue.
Hot around us, and hot around you. A
tongue of fire lick walls, snack on paintings.
Another tongue lick away curtains. Licking
and snacking, hungry fire's ire. All
raw energy emitting, jingle and dance, dance and jingle.
You hot too. Cannot notice,
cannot control yourself. Just hot,
and Sex all over, all around. Now
dance and jingle, you too find so. Jingle
and dance, dance and jingle.
Behold what you can see, heer what you can listen to!
Now YOU dancing jingling with Ceramica Dolll, Chinaman!
Clay limbs twist, rotate, touch in Sex Supreme!
Clay torsos rotate, touch, twist in hot permanento!
Clay lips and tongues touch, twist, rotate in innuendo end!
All around too, and all inside.
All inside, and meenwhile, all around.
Now, all between, and in the first place.
Now, as a matter of fact, and forever more.
Now, maybe because, and sometimes already.
The Chinaman works for us. You
know what we meen. It is we who
crafted him out of china. Need
more be said? We are addressing
you from inside yourself. Pick
yourself out of all options. You
can try it for a week, and then exchange. Take
two if you wish. Get a package
of personalities. We have
plenty. The transcendent energy
of musicing is accumulating in our brains.
We want to manipulate! Operate
and rule, rule and manipulate! You
know what we meen. In the
fleeting never of our illusions closed doors of your perception are being
opened, waiting to merge with the Chinaman. We
need the Chinaman to have you, but you need us to be with the Chinaman.
You want to be with the Chinaman.
With the Chinaman you want to music, with the Chinaman you want to
jingle and jangle. No otherwise anymore. To be so. Jingle
forever more. So to be.
Approximate all in subliminal harmony.
No need for detail, not need to be specific either.
No time to measure, not any location to be determined either.
Unattached. Untouched.
Welcome Ceramica Dolll, welcome the Chinaman!
Dance, jingle us into oblivion of lobotomonotonous life. Jingle, dance us into forgetfulness of head-hole breath!
Let all inside, then outside. Let
all outside, then inside.
Criminal action upon any penetration of the dance, the dance to be
continued. Criminal enforcement
upon any dislocation of jingling, the jingling to prolong.
Welcome all, dance jingle in clay perfection.
Clay symbol upon the skull of earth, clay stamp upon the face of
eternity. Persevere!
Feel all you can touch, as we recommend.
We twist, rotate in disjoint dance.
You rotate, twist in the arms of Ceramica Dolll.
The Chinaman embrace all, hold all firm as he jingle.
Ceramica Dolll never stop, all that is motionless nonexistent.
Dimensions of dance, time by jingle.
Rotate and twist clay, clay twist and rotate.
Now, WE dancing with Ceramica Dolll, jingling with the Chinaman!
NOW LOOK OUTSIDE.
Look outside, all unstoppable and insanetary bleek.
Look as all move, no atom to stay in place, all to shift, rhythmically.
Rotate, and as you rotate, do twist.
As twist, do rotate too! As
rotate and twist, jingle too!
All outside quite as we are, rotate and twist.
NOW LOOK INSIDE.
All inside quite as we are, twist and rotate.
NOW LOOK BEYOND.
All beyond quite as we are, jingle.
Now WE jingling with the Chinaman, dancing with Ceramica Dolll!
All merge, all one. All situations together, all time in knot. Choose one, choose two, or more. Choose all. Dance off the reality, jingle off the coincidence. Ceramica Dolll works for us. The Chinaman works for us. You know what we meen. We want you and you want us. You are Ceramica Dolll, you are the Chinaman! Twist and rotate, rotate and twist, shake and rattle, dance and jingle. Permanent orgasm lobotomized, insanetary frig Sex Supreme no stop to be envisioned. Touch all you can feel, as we recommend.