Oh Take Me Away On Your Snowy White Wings : Johnny Pulp and the Lemonheads

Order 227 In the opening scene, with white lead that always always turns black in the end, he experiments with medics, the wheel of tractors attached to theatrical knives disappearing into shade and the like. My hands are petite and feet elongated yet graceful. My stye as always of the circle of Cavallini. I kept a prayer in a locket and at the platform danced a Ukrainian gopak with such assurance and rapidity I laid out my intonaco patches in extraordinarily large areas as if flying or weeping. I am one of the more advanced. At four o’clock I eat porridge. I received many death notices but remained always calm and kneeling as if calm was a style and ample enough. I won’t tell you anything else. Allow me the misfortune to stop knowing you. Feed the dogs whilst I’m gone. Don’t go down there. Never visit after sunset. Bring no uninvited guests, not even the curious. Prophets have fortold incidents of course and it’s worth paying attention to each sequence. The predella is no joke and the wall hurried and therefore not as secure as it might have been. Last time anyone went there they were covered in blood and disgorged. Keep the stove lit for as long as you can. Do not cook. You see how it must be? Your night blindness is naivity. Take the panels away weekly and be sure to scrub them. Watch the skies especially whenever the moon looks squat and large-headed. I am checking some events and sanction all rules. Learn them you dumb bitch. When you raise your head – if you raise your head – make sure the building explodes later. No matter how many stories it must explode. Everything must lose consciousness. If you are away too long then you are no longer anywhere. Do you understand? The vastest throngs are soon the dead. When you see it’s nearly dawn then you might try a sermon to the birds, a miracle of spring , a tree of life, a mourning with companions, a legendary chariot, you get the idea. Some will be shot through both lungs. Ask them then to sing. It gets a deeper meaning. It’s always hilarious. Your preoccupations are more like burials. Don’t go there and don’t come back if you do and bring a cycle to completion. Did you see where they dumped you? You lost your coupons. There are things we call morphological resemblances and you’re one. You must never step back. Never make eye contact. Never twitch or sneeze. Our own shot our own. Inevitably. There are some glowing colours by the stones going down but ignore them. After rain nothing of that will matter. Throw away your watches and money. Bury your rings and trinkets. Shave off. When we are reduced we find a more natural scale. All I can say now is that your elegance is a consummation. Filtration camps are worse than dying. People who waver have any extra hole. If ever we needed reminding we have enough already. There. There. There. There. There. There. There.