Gaaah. What? Hrrrrnf. Stir weightless against inkblack and mist. I’ll go, I’ll go. But pushed down into mush by warm slop. Do I do this every time when this rock whips round the hot and the clock clicks this time? Some kind of sumptuous sorcery must this incapacitation be. Speak to me. Speak to me in rhyme and reason until all wears thin. Nourish me with bread and no – speak to me only in rhyme. Nourish me with bread and soup, soup of everything everyone transmuted into ectoplasmic gunk brown and green and thick and deep. But no! no shark fin again. Only the substances of life flowing in rivers running and then down waterfalls of crashing and rock and mist. Down the waterfall everyone. (At some point.)
Too much time! Too much time so not enough. The river always ruthless movement but music too rushes fast through space to fill it up. Space between walls someone has built, bricks bricks bricks making room. Time: crumble walls and stand in space. There will be time. It will be soon. It will be – now. Now! Wait. Check for rock round hot and clock clicking time. Bend into liquid splashing wide.
What? What? Gaaah. Early. Back into darkness.
