#31

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Ultradimensional Moorish/Arabian spaces and motifs, patterns in constant kaleidoscope motion. The souls of dead crackheads imprisoned in vampire seedpods. Endlessly drowning in their own sweet sprit nectars.

Poisons and acids bubble in pools…heat flashes and the stink of burning ants under glass…formic acid…egg chambers…faceted eyes.

He’s coming. I can feel him. I can feel the wind of the billion shadows he casts.

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