.:XVII:.
[Private to Self]
Constant:
When I say, forget it - you stay, deaf and unlocked. There will have to be a painting of it soon. Sometime ago in the future, when I feel knocked off sufficiently. In the disarray of strangest sounds.
Ernst. Theodor. Wilhelm. Hoffmann. --------- Not true enough. Consumptive ladies like Inferis, walking around in circles; and their lips, like cherry skin.
When there is not coldness in the fingers, and ink stains leave the chamber. Alone. Maybe try the good wine. Or leave:
Leave for Venice, (in a fit of sadistic masochism). Or maybe travel up to South Africa. That entangling of the black and white-- and the moans of lust, amidst the all-absorbing stench of poverty and human weakness. Axe at it away. Kill a few here and there, proclaim the rise of Übermensch. Ah, I forget;
Disappear into the night. I'm thirsty.
[/Private to Self]
[Private to Millicent]
My dearest,
I hope to be away from this dreariness in a few days. Where are you, by the way? Applying your fascinating designer skills to our modest house, I would think. Let's not touch the bedrooms, shall we?
Meanwhile, I am in the need of entertainment. Let's go killing to Montenegro. No, wait, let's go to Srebrenica. Wreak havoc, run amok-- do you still remember the smell of blood?
I want trout for the dinner, by the by.
Montague
[/Private to Millicent]
[Private to Perry]
My dearest duellante,
I might be leaving these sullen landscapes for a few days, should I have the luck and be granted the visa provisions. Therefore, I shall like to hear of your advancements in the art of training your muscles. And how does your injured hand do, since we're on the topic?
I have also thought of the club name change. How does Pallida Mors sound? I was first thinking of Mors Mortem, but then thought it was a bit too dramatic. Also, we could always go by Bloody Barons.
Any aesthetically coherent thoughts of yours?
Montague
[/Private to Perry]
[Private to Self]
Maybe I am two-headed.
[Private to Self]
Constant:
When I say, forget it - you stay, deaf and unlocked. There will have to be a painting of it soon. Sometime ago in the future, when I feel knocked off sufficiently. In the disarray of strangest sounds.
Ernst. Theodor. Wilhelm. Hoffmann. --------- Not true enough. Consumptive ladies like Inferis, walking around in circles; and their lips, like cherry skin.
When there is not coldness in the fingers, and ink stains leave the chamber. Alone. Maybe try the good wine. Or leave:
Leave for Venice, (in a fit of sadistic masochism). Or maybe travel up to South Africa. That entangling of the black and white-- and the moans of lust, amidst the all-absorbing stench of poverty and human weakness. Axe at it away. Kill a few here and there, proclaim the rise of Übermensch. Ah, I forget;
Disappear into the night. I'm thirsty.
[/Private to Self]
[Private to Millicent]
My dearest,
I hope to be away from this dreariness in a few days. Where are you, by the way? Applying your fascinating designer skills to our modest house, I would think. Let's not touch the bedrooms, shall we?
Meanwhile, I am in the need of entertainment. Let's go killing to Montenegro. No, wait, let's go to Srebrenica. Wreak havoc, run amok-- do you still remember the smell of blood?
I want trout for the dinner, by the by.
Montague
[/Private to Millicent]
[Private to Perry]
My dearest duellante,
I might be leaving these sullen landscapes for a few days, should I have the luck and be granted the visa provisions. Therefore, I shall like to hear of your advancements in the art of training your muscles. And how does your injured hand do, since we're on the topic?
I have also thought of the club name change. How does Pallida Mors sound? I was first thinking of Mors Mortem, but then thought it was a bit too dramatic. Also, we could always go by Bloody Barons.
Any aesthetically coherent thoughts of yours?
Montague
[/Private to Perry]
[Private to Self]
Maybe I am two-headed.
[Private to Self]