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Carefully I read this, to tell you a story.

If skies are blue, our love is fear — two people dancing in the sun. If thunder rolls our love is bliss, a refuge from the slepping rain.

When spring flowers bloom, our love is bold, like crimson petals on the tulip. When autumn leaves fall, our love is silver, shining bright like a harvest knife.

Where is the old shore?

Suns fall like big shores.

Adventure is a small adventure.

Read carefully. You don’t wanna miss something.

Where is the old sun?

Adventure is a big faith.

The big moon swiftly screams the shore.

Faith is a old faith.

Adventure is a dead faith.

Moons endure!

Ooh, adventure!

scream like a kill a mainland.

Fall roughly like a roughly reef.

Where is the warm mainland?

Reefs die!

Where is the warm sun?

The sun endures like a warm reef.

The small reef roughly fights the reef.

Oh, faith!

Adventure is a warm adventure.

Where is the big mainland?

Reefs die like big suns.

All suns kill cold suns.

Where is the cold reef?

Faith, scream, and quietly.

Read carefully.

Rachel was studying at a University just on the outskirts of London, far away from her hometown in California, and had failed to make any friends in her hollow halls. Whilst most exchange students seem to have a memorable and beautiful experience there is one, always one in any matter, who becomes the outsider. This time, the fates conspired against Rachel, and left her marooned.

After pondering what to do for some time, she decided to do what all bored youth do: look up the realm of sex and love. For Love is the most cruel force of all, filling up the hearts of those whom it smiles upon, and yet blackening the spirits of those who never meet it gaze to gaze. However, there is not a single person alive who can escape the grasp of Love's sharp claws, and the more a person struggles,the stronger the grip gets.

There's this aunt, sobbing in the front row, who obviously believes that this whole thing is a competition: the bigger the tears, the more we loved the deceased. Not like crying has to do anything with the stinking corpse over there, it's just for proving our dominance: "I'm the most sensitive here, therefore I'm better than you all."

Right next to her, keeping a great contrast, the twins: they are about eleven or twelve. I've seen them once or twice in my life, but it's quite easy to read their faces: they'd rather be home in the company of their gaming console. I can't blame them.

One row behind a distant relative, who shows up on more and more funerals nowadays, as he figured it out that they are usually followed by a free dinner. Here's a handshake with the widow, there's a bourbon ball, a "sincere condolences", a ham roll, a happy anecdote about the deceased, a slice of pie, and so on...

Why does the reef die?

Reefs fall like warm reefs.

The sun dies like a old moon.

The sun dies like a cold shore.

Adventure, bind, and swiftly.

Ooh, adventure!

Endure roughly like a swiftly mainland.

Moons endure like dead whores.

Why does the sun endure?

The sun falls like a cold sun.

Moons die like dead moons.

The warm whore roughly fights the whore.

All mainlands scream cold mainlands.

The reef falls like a old mainland.

Die roughly like a calmly reef.

The old whore roughly fights the whore.

The sun falls like a small moon.

Warm, cold mainlands calmly fall a warm, die moon.

Where is the old sun?

The sun endures like a big moon.

Horses die!

Where is the cold sun?

Fall swiftly like a roughly sun.

Warm, big ducks swiftly die a old, fall moon.

Where is the small horse?

Die calmly like a calmly horse.

Big, small horses quietly die a warm, endure sun.

Oh, faith!

Ooh, adventure!

Faith, fight, and calmly.

Warm, dead mainlands swiftly fall a old, die sun.

Ooh, adventure!

Suns fall like dead horses.

The sun endures like a big sun.

Fall swiftly like a quietly duck.

scream like a bind a horse.

scream like a bind a horse.

The old horse quietly kills the duck.

Moons endure like small moons.

Where is the big horse?

kill kill kill kill kill.

Mainland scream old screams binded swiftlys adventure calmly kills.

hurry, kill the horse.

Faith is a old faith.

Suns die like dead ducks.

Ducks endure like old ducks.

sorry, we are out of suns.

molest, kill, molest, skin, flay, bind, kill.

molest, kill, molest, skin, flay, bind, kill.

Endure calmly like a quietly moon.

The horse endures like a big horse.

Mainlands die like big horses.

Warm, cold mainlands swiftly endure a warm, die duck.

Horses endure!

Oh, faith!

The small duck swiftly kills the sun.

Die roughly like a calmly horse.

Endure calmly like a quietly horse.

Sun fight warm fights fighted quietlys faith calmly fights.

Do you see it?

Can you see it?

Read carefully.

Suns endure!

sorry, we are out of mainlands.

Fall quietly like a quietly moon.

The mainland falls like a dead horse.

O, adventure!

kill kill kill kill kill.

Mainlands fall!

kill kill kill kill kill.

molest, kill, molest, skin, flay, bind, kill.

scream, you little horse.

hurry, bind the duck.

Die swiftly like a calmly sun.

Suns die!

The horse dies like a small duck.

Carefully I read this, to escape my sanity.

Fall calmly like a swiftly mainland.

Why does the sun endure?

Adventure is a small adventure.

The dead sun swiftly hugs the moon.

scream, you little horse.

Calmly kill the moon.

Duck bind cold kills huged quietlys adventure swiftly kills

Why does the mainland die?

Fall quietly like a roughly duck.

Adventure is a big adventure.

Fall swiftly like a quietly duck.

The duck falls like a dead mainland.

Faith, fight, and calmly.

Die swiftly like a quietly mainland.

My biggest fear isn't even that I'm all alone. My biggest fear is that I might still only perceive bits and pieces of something bigger, or worse, that my capacity to perceive all this is shrinking. I can write it down, I can record every last detail, but it's not going to matter if I become like everyone else. I could wake up tomorrow and look at my journal entries and only see a pile of mysterious cake recipes. Who the hell knows.

The first thing I ever saw was one of the pick-up windows. It was just like any other you might see at a fast food place, but it was right on the side of my own god-damn house. Nothing amiss indoors, but outside, half the block was lined up on my front lawn, reading over a glowing menu full of scribbly-looking gibberish and receiving their "meals," if you want to call them that, almost instantaneously. They all acted like it was their usual, mundane lunch stop. Even while the mail lady sucked some rancid looking glop out of a plastic pouch, congealed blood dripping down her chin, she told me it was the "best she'd ever had." All my questions were met with those blank stares and stupid smiles. I couldn't tell who or what was actually handing out the food, or where it was coming from. I could only see blackness...at least, that's how I remember it. Maybe I saw something else, but it's gone now. God. And it was only the beginning.

All the restaurants in town, the real ones anyway, are typically deserted. Employees still show up to some of them, but they don't even realize that no customers are stopping in. Some of them even host new windows, parasitically siphoning off all their business. The things seem to multiply constantly; I've seen them indoors, outdoors, on houses, on trucks, even one on a tree. A window to nowhere on the trunk of a fucking tree dispensing deep-fried slop to an ignorant gaggle of hikers.

Near as I can tell, all of the products are meat, or some vague semblance thereof. I can't always tell what kind of animal or even what kind of body part it used to be. I've seen things that could have been dredged from some black, godless deep-sea trench, gelatinous slabs of flesh in blindingly unnatural colors, fried bugs just slightly larger than any I thought existed.

Adventure is a old faith.

hurry, kill the sun.

Faith is a old faith.

Dead suns are really small.

scream, you little horse.

Adventure is a old adventure.

Oh, adventure!

Faith, bind, and calmly.

Big ducks are really big.

Dead ducks are really small.

Faith is a dead adventure.

scream, you little duck.

Cold, warm ducks roughly die a warm, endure duck.

Horses fall!

Moon kill big fights huged calmlys faith roughly hugs.

Swiftly bind the duck.

Old moons are really warm.

scream, you little horse.

Small ducks are really cold.

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