Abnormal Normalities

This place is madness; I attempt to navigate without a destination. Altered transfiguration should be tormented by my presence; conclusion of an unwanted return yet necessary formation. Cannibalism by brain matter is a fair operation for an unwilling science project.

I am discussing mortality with a braid clad zealous warrior; she assures me there is no reason to worry.

"Let them do as they do and we will continue to do as we do."

"They will continue as well."

"Not if they continue to do as they do."

"If they continue to do as they do and we continue to do as we do....."

"Vic....."

"Yes....."

"Did you confuse yourself with duplicated verb and subject?"

"Yeah."

"Do not do that when you write!"

"Okay."

"As you were saying....."

Bloody hell these people formulated for this head contraption are hideous; they appear to be mutated from disassembled compound chemicals which might be sourced from a human or possibly similar properties. Soon this compiled liquid picture will be over but this appearance is theirs forever, if indeed my Fuchsia fixation is correct.

"What they do will interfere with what we do because we are at opposite ends."

"We will battle for middle ground."

"Yes."

"Even so we will continue."

"And they will....."

"Mutate."

"Into....."

"The degradation of us."

"Then what?"

"We will eat them."

"With what?"

"Spoons and forks; we are gentlemen."

"Seriously....."

"They will despise us."

"I will despise them."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"They are a part of us."

Pairing for arrival a set of eyes belongs to two watchers; she gathers the misconception of man into a formula to spare me disillusion while I dream of a wolf husband.

"I will destroy them."

"Do not."

"Why?"

"We need to know what composes our deviance and benevolence."

Brad and Cindy dose a red liquid gathered from a fallen crucifix; I speculate the origin is unknown for the participants as denial of my self is suspicion. This flavor is genuine unlike the necks of politicians; dripping of damnation I am demented digestion. An unusual levitation grafts me to a wooden lodged portion of a building while I sit butterfly caught by spectators. A child snaps a picture with a disposable camera; he exposes my nature to a crowd, "just a gargoyle, that's all."

"It will fuck with our minds."

"Acceptance is the key."

"The lock is a bloody artery."

"Your favorite."

"....."

"You are the worst of us."

"What ever do you mean?"

I handkerchief my nose for a pungent rose seclusion; this location is a dome centering metropolitan grimace. Every smile is bleach solution, hands are gloved with detergent, clothing a thrift of expenditures, minimalism is supremacy of alcoholism. Upon my entrance the guards acknowledge by behaviorism as their jubilant juncture; they will escort that man wearing plaid waiting in the corridor, for a teary eyed woman of course, into a dumpster prepared by a rusty truck. My woe is sincere however my temporary comfort is a city's power outage.

"Nothing....."

"Why does everyone reply with nothingness when I speak of something?"

"They will show us whom we ought not."

"That I understand."

"Well worth the torture."

"How?"

"Their torture will be multiplied by the number of multiplicands."

"No longer a mathematical equation for estimation."

"The amount will exceed population."

"Population of what?"

"Battery powered life organisms."

"What is that?"

"B.P.L.O."

"Which is....."

"Do you enjoy the people who compliment our presence?"

"Yes...."

"How much?"

"More than....."

"Existence?"

"What are you getting at?"

"Do not worry for them."

"I worry for us."

"You do not worry for them?"

"Nothing can harm them."

"Whatever harms us is detrimental for them."

"How?"

"Do not worry for such."

"Now that you mentioned it I will until proven otherwise."

"There will be those that are not."

"Not what?"

"Alive."

"They are dead?"

"They are masturbatory devices."

"Shit....."

"Zen brought us one."

"She did....."

"I always tell you what I am not supposed to....."

"I adore you."

"He was made for your appearance."

"What?"

"There was an identification mark on his left shoulder."

"....."

"A rose."

"Fucking cunt."

"I simply call him Fucker."

Yanking the cord relaxes me indefinitely; I chew through the Air Force blue wire to create an electrical spark. A woman wearing white approaches me while I lay back into a slump; she leans to kiss for an ignition spark. Groupies from Braid's egotistical fan club drop a bin of water. The spiking flame shrivels her back; my shin twists her ankle into a puddle while a boyfriend laughs. Funny, I think to myself, he looks like Katarzyna's brother.

"Zen knew immediately.....?"

"Absolutely."

"What set her off?"

"His bottom was not to her liking."