I am going to arm myself with Ysbaddadan’s Javelin and the armour of Achilles while wearing the helmet of Rostam with the Tarnkappe over my shoulders and I will ride the auspicious cloud of Sun Wokung.
Just open the door, that’s all you have to do.
Why don’t you open it?
I’m imaginary.
I take a sip of my rum, look at the picture of Madame Blavatsky and she seems to be saying: ‘go in weird little boy.’ So I unlock the door and push it wide open. I stare into a dark hallway. Darkness there, and nothing more.
How poetic of you.
My guilty feet have got no rhythm.
2 comments:
pain is all you'll find
Come on, man. Face those fears!
Okay, you caught me, I really just want to know what happens.
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