| |
|
I bumped this for a couple of reasons:
1) Mod is dead. Here is his funeral. Here is his grave. In some other places on the board people are talking about him in the present tense like he is still walking around, and...
2) 000, before being turned off had a vision of mod & he emailed it to me:
"I saw him on the street today I haven’t been sleepin too well with all this nervous enrgy about it keeps me up and…I saw mod and no one else saw him.
He was there tucked in about waist high in between people on the crowed and too hot and bright street. He was a mess of coils and springs and bell and things that seemed to slide in and out of existence in ways I couldn’t quite make any sense of. And he walked with buoyant light strides and his whole body twisted and writhed with its circles and spirals like some kind of fluid suspended in another alien dimension. And it sounded like too many Slinkys being set free to crawl down a metal industrial spiral staircase.
And he spoke to me and not one other person heard and his words which were hissing buzzing smokey smoldering ashey words. Snakes words with a forked tongue they rolled from hips spring lips:
HussszzzzzzzzSSSuuck-erzzzsssssss.
And then he disappeared in a stomach wrenching churn of implosion.
I’m terrified and can’t sleep. I think I might have to go get checked into the local ward for awhile."
Personally I think that Chrome was certainly a nutter. I mean, who sees a vision of a dead and gone fictionsuit?
Who lets a vision of something past keep them from a brighter tomorrow?
I dunno'.
Thank-you Barbelith for everything.
L.U.V. |
|
|
