The Trial Der Prozess Le Procès
I am
in the room above with oil in the brain. I am up there in the attic with the toys.
Listening post. Look out point. I do to me...you have no idea what this
body does in a twenty four hour period in its own cohabitation. This
body has to live with me. And my wandering fantasy. The noise. The make
up. The hibernation pattern. I continue, every evening, the holy plan;
sneak, sneak, take a peek, right out from under your eyes, test country
will not match rickety lies.