My spy works underground, slow process am i told. Nothing exclusive by now. Wait for further details about her. We do not have many options. Time on that scale is nothing. I was dying of thirst. Stare in blank screen positions. Hunt for lyrics. Desire clever, winter surrender. Hope is real.	There was someone at Olivier's place who knew the famous Jesus of Assas, that weirdo, walking bare foot or with sandals, very long hair, beard and supposely smart. That was me, a projection. I was also Jesus in the sexual dimension.	It's not going to start. No batteries included. Nothing to sustain. Fake emotional display. Nothing really matters for it keeps spinning away from me. There was a light, now gone, that emerged from a smille I'll never see again. It comes knocking at your door, helplessly. It's in the stats.
Time can shape or heal, but there are shifters like eagles around the towers of ivory where we build the hatchets to be burried. ButtHead told me i will score and he's wiser than me when it comes to the bible. Wasted hours staring at the irc feed.		It feels like i'm holding onto nothing, chasing ghosts, convicting innocents, falling in love with strangers out of fate, if there is and there ain't such a thing. Abort social process, black screen. Appointment with chip mates, moving pixels for them. You shall not negociate, for money ain't no game.
Climbing off the fence in her backyard, i was missled by a whimsical call to integrate the uncool ruler's standard. I dwell near the well, i live like thieves without the outcome. Being no one's game, i resurect in dreams sequences during daytime, and mute nights when it's time outside the quadrant.	Stuck inside three walls with the outside dream again. For i am blind, i shall repent. Beavis, i figured out, was never lying to himself, instead of me. The hall of flames, the whole shame, the wall is never an illusion. Countdown policies in progress. Fake static i listen, is music to thoses with the gift of happyness.	The endless numeration of potential victims, i try to shorten and circumscribe. Those aware a so few that it blows my chances of being someone else's safe victim. Release the spots, emotional diet, they never strike back. I remember diving naked into the ocean, another life time.