Time shifted again, moving in rings rippling out, catching things in its swirl. I think I stepped off the path to look at something, but, like in the hotel, I can’t see the way back. A darkness inks into the cracks and everything starts echoing. Every face is just a variation of 30 base faces, endlessly reused. The songs know the secret and the songs are telling everyone.

The feeling is like the feeling is like is like the wings just explode like a drag chute in the wind of time. Ironic that the wings are protection, something to slow me down because I am always flying. Slinky sine wave of senses spirals sideways vibrate stop collapse together like cymbals like symbols like something I think he’s in love with her.