Pleasure then pain? Why must it be this way? Intoxicating nightmare. Driven by storms, vows of silence, maddening rush … Rancid under the spell of mockery I fled for the hills – basking in a frothing sea of night. For years I war with demons in my sleep, pillaging loud than softly: blasphemous change in seasons too subtle to detect. Mineral mind announcing tortures from below – burning temple, original domain – gastric prehensile of defecating logic. First my insides then my skin. I sacrifice it all to monstrous thresholds; idyllic ruptures in the bellicose moment, rending from an ancient source the will to live again …