i dream of turning to new positions, keyed left to right, all intricate me. garbage-moths.
so i'm swept out, finally, to sleep. i spend some time floundering but i sink my head below the waves on gloomy under-currents. into some phantasmagory of colonization. i mean fuck, even when i'm asleep i'm so fucking far away from home. we're gods, see, sent out with kirby devices into new lands to build our pantheon. & so i'm the cunning one, the one to whom all ears bend. but no one else fucking remembers where we are from. we only talk about the town of "new meriga," & i am the only one who can keep it in his mind that it means america, that it means the place we were all from. & eventually, when their fleets come, the queen knows i am the faithful. so she kills all the rest, & i in turn kill her. it is a honey bee thing.
don't mind my glowering. i am shedding some kind of adolesence.