It’s Friday, March 27th, 2015. We are in Marseille.
There has been a call. They have found a type of sea plankton living on the windows on the outside of the ship. They are unable to explain how it got there. This was reported from the International Space Station, orbiting 365 000 kilometers away from the surface of the Earth.
We are orbiting into existence.
"With red- gold eyes always burning as from caverns, from behind trees, as one of the luxuriant women, a tropical growth, excommunicated from the bread line as too rich a substance for every day living, placing her there as a denizen of the world of fire, content with her intermittent, parabolic appearances."
"Feel your heart accelerate into space, till its last drops are being squeezed out. Till it stops beating altogether. The silence is as fatal as the song…You are a victim under the spell. The lower rises, a world beyond your knowledge is opening up, sentiment is pumped from the walls."
"The silver siren cutting a pathway through the flesh."
"Feel the power of hallucinations. There is a dangerous game called desire and make-belief, we give you the electric shock made of waves. Your will is drugged. Your sanity is slowly drifting into the damp silhouette in the mirror, you disappear within the mist. The horizon seems familiar but you don’t have to understand everything. Sink into the echo chamber mirroring your reality."
"A mandrake with fleshly roots, bearing a solitary purple flower in a purple-bell-shaped corolla of narcotic flesh."
"You are born. Let the early memories of existence calm you down. The reflection is as dark as the deepest ocean, as treacherous as the shallowest pool. The white horse will bring you down, further than you have ever been before."
The first time he had looked at her he had felt: Everything will burn!
"…Formication, do you know what it is? … it’s when you have the feeling that something is crawling under your skin…It can start very light, like small raindrops softly caressing your tongue. Then they grow stronger, they erase all sounds and floods into your veins like flowing warm mercury. Dragging you down, into the electric stream. The velvet memory gets caught in the vast sea of unconsciousness."
"A jungle of dragon tails thrashing in erotic derisions, a brazier of flesh-smoking prayers, the multiple debris of the stained glass fountains of desire."
"No need to feel so distant... We are sensible you see, we want you to be comfortable, but once you interrupt, you might be suffocated accidentally. Our echoes are heard long after we are gone and the alien sound will never leave your drums. Beating with the pulse of your exhausted heart. Creating waves of unity, with your mother, with yourself, with them, with us. Always to be drowned. The pursuit of pleasure is no longer yours to control. We stay in the waves, drifting in and out of your grip. We are denizens of the deep. The sirens of the night."
"You are wonderful. You are wonderful and good."
"You are orbited into existence. It’s Friday, March 27th, 2015.