Messages From Central Cocoon

Formatively wicked, unclean version. Version one is widening, opening up. Stale glass bath, worm-encrusted necklace. Version two is cut like a diamond. I take my friend's hand all the way to the canyon. If you trust me, you will follow me down there, yes, you will. Formatively wicked, unclean version. Version one is widening, opening up. I take my friend's hand all the way to the canyon. Stale glass bath, worm-encrusted necklace. If you trust me, you will follow mе down there. Version two is cut likе a diamond.

I gave a lecture that lasted twenty-seven months. When I was done, all the students rose to leave. I wished them all well and informed them all that there were men and women in the world who would spend their every moment trying to pry loose their souls, their appearance, their very humbling, their smile, their scent. An iron cross is laid at your naked feet, and you know they will always think of you as the one who ran with the whores of the village. Go now, leave this place. The very ground is unsafe. You were the crown prince of nothing. The lecture is over. It has been. You are now on your own. Go now, up away. The statues await you. Keep them clean. Host a maiden only when her breasts stand tall and your face is puffy with childhood's promise. Go now. The lecture is over. It has been. They await you. Do not let them down. Stand tall, you statue.

Charles, Iron Press North calling. Hey, what's up? Just wanted to drop you a line. I found this great quote from April 20th, '91, from a young Gail Shepard [?]. Here it is: "I was crying like God got shot with a shotgun."

Hmm, good. Yeah, that whiskey.