every child born is a miracle.... a flesh and blood sculpture, uniquely formed.
The Second Trilogy - INTENTION AND PERCEPTION
Chapter 4
Mouth to Mouth
“The world of romance seems to have been boiled down like cow gum: A sticky residue of sexual wants; a veritable Venus Flytrap Stew with a glut of carnal dumplings that all but the Marquis de Sade would find themselves choking on if they tried to swallow.”
Chapter 5
Eye to Eye
“Throughout these sluggish years, I have experienced mere pellets of progress, manifested in the world through dreams. Far too many beautiful dreams become dark nightmares: From the damp fumblings in caves to the whispered longings of dungeon dwellers: From the filling and emptying of chamber pots by candlelight to the ladies of the night, walking themselves home as the lampers snuff their wicks, I have seldom felt illumined by the spiritual evolution of the human race. And then we have the eventual flicking of switches and pulling of cords, always shedding false daylight upon secrets best left covered by midnight blue blankets. Still, these are the “private” things with which I have become so well aquainted; creeping around in search of half-closed curtains in your mind so as to find a twilight stage upon which to direct new peep shows.”
Chapter 6
Cheek to Cheek
I just can’t bear to watch. It all just races through your retina like a fire in a ventilation shaft. You feel burned out. Sometimes I wake up screaming and realise that the nightmare was real: Fuelled by what’s been happening in some other country; in some “other” world.
There’s nothing replenishing on the television, except the miracle creams that smear their way into the commercial break. Women are supposed to make the re-hydration of their fine lines the priority in their world, having just watched a feature about droughts in Angola.
In this empty culture, dried up breasts would simply be implanted with silicone.
When you’re pregnant these things are torture. To see another woman suffering, with her starving child in her arms, is absolute hell. It burns every other reality to a crisp and smatters everything commercial with fall-out ash. I am unable to put myself in the other woman’s shoes for she does not have any.”
Mouth to Mouth
“The world of romance seems to have been boiled down like cow gum: A sticky residue of sexual wants; a veritable Venus Flytrap Stew with a glut of carnal dumplings that all but the Marquis de Sade would find themselves choking on if they tried to swallow.”
Chapter 5
Eye to Eye
“Throughout these sluggish years, I have experienced mere pellets of progress, manifested in the world through dreams. Far too many beautiful dreams become dark nightmares: From the damp fumblings in caves to the whispered longings of dungeon dwellers: From the filling and emptying of chamber pots by candlelight to the ladies of the night, walking themselves home as the lampers snuff their wicks, I have seldom felt illumined by the spiritual evolution of the human race. And then we have the eventual flicking of switches and pulling of cords, always shedding false daylight upon secrets best left covered by midnight blue blankets. Still, these are the “private” things with which I have become so well aquainted; creeping around in search of half-closed curtains in your mind so as to find a twilight stage upon which to direct new peep shows.”
Chapter 6
Cheek to Cheek
I just can’t bear to watch. It all just races through your retina like a fire in a ventilation shaft. You feel burned out. Sometimes I wake up screaming and realise that the nightmare was real: Fuelled by what’s been happening in some other country; in some “other” world.
There’s nothing replenishing on the television, except the miracle creams that smear their way into the commercial break. Women are supposed to make the re-hydration of their fine lines the priority in their world, having just watched a feature about droughts in Angola.
In this empty culture, dried up breasts would simply be implanted with silicone.
When you’re pregnant these things are torture. To see another woman suffering, with her starving child in her arms, is absolute hell. It burns every other reality to a crisp and smatters everything commercial with fall-out ash. I am unable to put myself in the other woman’s shoes for she does not have any.”
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