Jan. 13th, 2017
I fell asleep, I woke up. I lived as I didn't live. So we've been taught in a Spec-Ops school - to live as gold cast butterfly, and flying over nests should sprinkle we all around with pollen of wisdom incredible. The detachment of the Big Ballet leave it's light dance, and women from the Guild will suddenly become the feathers of the Fire-Bird, all full of flames and vigour. I would be cleaned by the Eighth, Ninth Cleansing, already six I passed, and five Anathems - clean! Clean like a drop of dew and light-transparent! And there's heresy, just think! My skull was measured ten times, they drilled my teeth, a tube inserted into my brain, large Psychoskopes almost burned my eyes, and they ransacked my heart and soul down to the farthest corners - not found vile sedition. Mystery, help! Run. Veer. Scry, win.