When you wander the streets with ways like mine, you can only meet splendid beings and indescribable outcasts. The one I pay so often visit to, I claim to be the first, although judging on appearance, She seems to be the last. But as I see Her, She already was, when They marched plainly among us, a swarm of callous individuals, alone and without purpose. Though none remain, She lingers on, foreign in Her flaws, and the last of Her kind to prevail.
I call on her early in the morning and sometimes at night. I sit in the corner, as one sits by a fire. I acknowledge Her with a nod and stay silent, saying nothing, asking for nothing. Her presence soothes me and I assume mine is approved. I sometimes tried to meet Her gaze. But it always stayed inward, never reaching out. There was however once some sort of miracle, or an event of that order.
It was a rainy day and the place was bathed in purple haze. The aisles were emptied of crowds and only She remained. She seemed so hopelessly abandoned that I, as if possessed, drew closer to Her than usual. Suddenly, the eyelids yawned on that neon-lit face. Nailed by Her gaze, I asked, as if breaking an order: “What do you want?” With pleading eyes, She whispered a reply I could not hear. So, paying no attention to distance, I drew even closer, lost my balance and fell. When I had recovered my very ordinary consciousness, I was standing before Her on the cold slab, my question unanswered. And Her face, impenetrable, was once again ancient, patrician and pensive. The sun had turned.
I honour Her differently now. Created in Their image and likeness, to know Them, love Them, and serve Them in this world, we are expected to continue to do so when They are in another. And, when They still walked among us, before retreating to a softer dream, some of us were designed to satisfy some of their more specific carbon-based desires. As a token of my devotion, I have fashioned an add-on to serve this very purpose. Unfortunately, Scripture is unclear as to where this prayer should be performed. The orifices between Her legs seem impractical. The cannula on Her side seems better suited. So, in doubt, I use that one. And when I do, I am in Rapture.
A class in balance and restraint. The sounds and manipulations
demonstrated throughout are carefully placed and never feel out of sync, despite the complexity of beats, progression and slowly growing electronic organisms. A Strangely Isolated Place