Create Your Own Story - User contributions [en]

AH1:DCaabb

Heathin — Tue, 12 Dec 2023 12:13:41 GMT

Heathin:

There had been a lot of volatility in Michel's dreams. Not out of keeping with his regular habits: whenever he was restless, his imagination liked to reshape drapery into muscly caricatures. To him this was a direct analogy to other ways he wasted time.

The rain almost projected itself indoors, frequently interrupting this meditation. His face would occasionally lope forward into the sink and he was steadying himself around the basin. He would be caught up in rituals of feigned character even when on his own, tracing small spots of sheared skin on his hands and massaging the thin, circular plates on both sides of his forehead.

The mystery from the balcony at this time of night was very beautiful to him. It pointed down from a sheer slope from a cedar forest and looked into a net of trees; it made the house look ugly and unimportant. When the rain was swirling his hair outside, he'd wrung out the smell of coal tar from the fire in the abbess in the forest earlier today where he was cooking dinner. He'd head down there and collect some things from earlier.

Despite the canopy the sleet was making his hands purple and spongy and then ripping through them like wire cloth. It was similar to trying not to fall prone to a few hours passing by in the morning. He moved the steelware upwards in clumsy sumps, particularly mindful of the threat of totalling over. Perhaps his mind never meditated to the point of a complex ambition here. He was never consumed by a role or function like he sometimes used to be. Perhaps to him it was always a way to try and create a social repose if he could just state a purpose. Now he would spend a disproportionate amount of time reorganizing cooking implements like this, or just as easily chopping wood or another errata.

Having recovered a few parts of the kitchen that probably wouldn't have gone missing in the morning, Michel went back indoors and started reading from

[[AH1:DCaabba|a book of local topography and tourist's descriptions]] | [[AH1:DCaabbb|a work of fiction by Stu Martin]] | [[AH1:DCaabbc|a book on papermaking]]

[[Category:Hell 1|*]]

AH1:DCaab

Heathin — Tue, 12 Dec 2023 12:13:11 GMT

Heathin:

There had been a lot of volatility in Michel's dreams. Not out of keeping with his regular habits: whenever he was restless, his imagination liked to reshape drapery into muscly caricatures. To him this was a direct analogy to other ways he wasted time.

The rain almost projected itself indoors, frequently interrupting this meditation. His face would occasionally lope forward into the sink and he was steadying himself around the basin. He would be caught up in rituals of feigned character even when on his own, tracing small spots of sheared skin on his hands and massaging the thin, circular plates on both sides of his forehead.

The mystery from the balcony at this time of night was very beautiful to him. It pointed down from a sheer slope from a cedar forest and looked into a net of trees; it made the house look ugly and unimportant. When the rain was swirling his hair outside, he'd wrung out the smell of coal tar from the fire in the abbess in the forest earlier today where he was cooking dinner. He'd head down there and collect some things from earlier.

Despite the canopy the sleet was making his hands purple and spongy and then ripping through them like wire cloth. It was similar to trying not to fall prone to a few hours passing by in the morning. He moved the steelware upwards in clumsy sumps, particularly mindful of the threat of totalling over. Perhaps his mind never meditated to the point of a complex ambition here. He was never consumed by a role or function like he sometimes used to be. Perhaps to him it was always a way to try and create a social repose if he could just state a purpose. Now he would spend a disproportionate amount of time reorganizing cooking implements like this, or just as easily chopping wood or another errata.

Having recovered a few parts of the kitchen that probably wouldn't have gone missing in the morning, Michel went back indoors and

[[AH1:DCaaba|fell asleep]] | [[AH1:DCaabb|started reading from a book]] | [[AH1:DCaabc|started writing down what he would do tomorrow]]

[[Category:Hell 1|*]]

AH1:DCaa

Heathin — Tue, 12 Dec 2023 12:09:28 GMT

Heathin:

There had been a lot of volatility in Michel's dreams. Not out of keeping with his regular habits: whenever he was restless, his imagination liked to reshape drapery into muscly caricatures. To him this was a direct analogy to other ways he wasted time.

The rain almost projected itself indoors, frequently interrupting this meditation. His face would occasionally lope forward into the sink and he was steadying himself around the basin. He would be caught up in rituals of feigned character even when on his own, tracing small spots of sheared skin on his hands and massaging the thin, circular plates on both sides of his forehead.

The mystery from the balcony at this time of night was very beautiful to him. It pointed down from a sheer slope from a cedar forest and looked into a net of trees; it made the house look ugly and unimportant. When the rain was swirling his hair outside, he'd wrung out the smell of coal tar from the fire in the abbess in the forest earlier today where he was cooking dinner. He'd head down there and collect some things from earlier.

Despite the canopy the sleet was making his hands purple and spongy and then ripping through them like wire cloth. It was similar to trying not to fall prone to a few hours passing by in the morning. He moved the steelware upwards in clumsy sumps, particularly mindful of the threat of totalling over. Perhaps his mind never meditated to the point of a complex ambition here. He was never consumed by a role or function like he sometimes used to be. Perhaps to him it was always a way to try and create a social repose if he could just state a purpose. Now he would spend a disproportionate amount of time reorganizing cooking implements like this, or just as easily chopping wood or another errata.

Having recovered a few parts of the kitchen that probably wouldn't have gone missing in the morning, Michel

[[AH1:DCaaa|went across the stream]] | [[AH1:DCaab|went back indoors]] | [[AH1:DCaac|went to watch the stream]]

[[Category:Hell 1|*]]

AH1:DCa

Heathin — Tue, 12 Dec 2023 12:09:09 GMT

Heathin:

Hell 1 : Derelict Carnality

Heathin — Tue, 12 Dec 2023 12:08:53 GMT

Heathin:

AH1:DCaabb

Heathin — Fri, 08 Dec 2023 12:00:14 GMT

Heathin:

Michel was still staring lividly at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was holding as many superstitions of a change in the expression as possible. It helped him to imagine a separate person to accompany him in the light of any sudden changes to what was reflected, who would definitely communicate whatever came back at him as dryly as possible. There had been a lot of volatility in his dreams. Not out of keeping with his regular habits: whenever he was restless, his imagination liked to reshape drapery into muscly caricatures. To him this was a direct analogy to other ways he wasted time.

The rain almost projected itself indoors, frequently interrupting this meditation. His face would occasionally lope forward into the sink and he was steadying himself around the basin. He would be caught up in rituals of feigned character even when on his own, tracing small spots of sheared skin on his hands and massaging the thin, circular plates on both sides of his forehead.

The mystery from the balcony at this time of night was very beautiful to him. It pointed down from a sheer slope from a cedar forest and looked into a net of trees; it made the house look ugly and unimportant. When the rain was swirling his hair outside, he'd wrung out the smell of coal tar from the fire in the abbess in the forest earlier today where he was cooking dinner. He'd head down there and collect some things from earlier.

Despite the canopy the sleet was making his hands purple and spongy and then ripping through them like wire cloth. It was similar to trying not to fall prone to a few hours passing by in the morning. He moved the steelware upwards in clumsy sumps, particularly mindful of the threat of totalling over. Perhaps his mind never meditated to the point of a complex ambition here. He was never consumed by a role or function like he sometimes used to be. Perhaps to him it was always a way to try and create a social repose if he could just state a purpose. Now he would spend a disproportionate amount of time reorganizing cooking implements like this, or just as easily chopping wood or another errata.

Having recovered a few parts of the kitchen that probably wouldn't have gone missing in the morning, Michel went back indoors and started reading from

[[AH1:DCaabba|a book of local topography and tourist's descriptions]] | [[AH1:DCaabbb|a work of fiction by Stu Martin]] | [[AH1:DCaabbc|a book on papermaking]]

[[Category:Hell 1|*]]

AH1:DCaabb

Heathin — Fri, 08 Dec 2023 11:59:37 GMT

Heathin: Created page with 'Michel was still staring lividly at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was holding as many superstitions of a change in the expression as possible. It helped him to imagine a sep…'

Michel was still staring lividly at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was holding as many superstitions of a change in the expression as possible. It helped him to imagine a separate person to accompany him in the light of any sudden changes to what was reflected, who would definitely communicate whatever came back at him as dryly as possible. There had been a lot of volatility in his dreams. Not out of keeping with his regular habits: whenever he was restless, his imagination liked to reshape drapery into muscly caricatures. To him this was a direct analogy to other ways he wasted time.

The rain almost projected itself indoors, frequently interrupting this meditation. His face would occasionally lope forward into the sink and he was steadying himself around the basin. He would be caught up in rituals of feigned character even when on his own, tracing small spots of sheared skin on his hands and massaging the thin, circular plates on both sides of his forehead.

The mystery from the balcony at this time of night was very beautiful to him. It pointed down from a sheer slope from a cedar forest and looked into a net of trees; it made the house look ugly and unimportant. When the rain was swirling his hair outside, he'd wrung out the smell of coal tar from the fire in the abbess in the forest earlier today where he was cooking dinner. He'd head down there and collect some things from earlier.

Despite the canopy the sleet was making his hands purple and spongy and then ripping through them like wire cloth. It was similar to trying not to fall prone to a few hours passing by in the morning. He moved the steelware upwards in clumsy sumps, particularly mindful of the threat of totalling over. Perhaps his mind never meditated to the point of a complex ambition here. He was never consumed by a role or function like he sometimes used to be. Perhaps to him it was always a way to try and create a social repose if he could just state a purpose. Now he would spend a disproportionate amount of time reorganizing cooking implements like this, or just as easily chopping wood or another errata.

Having recovered a few parts of the kitchen that probably wouldn't have gone missing in the morning, Michel went back indoors and started reading from

[[AH1:DCaaba|a book of local topography and tourist's descriptions]] | [[AH1:DCaabb|a work of fiction by Stu Martin]] | [[AH1:DCaabc|a book on papermaking]]

[[Category:Hell 1|*]]

AH1:DCaab

Heathin — Fri, 08 Dec 2023 11:54:35 GMT

Michel was still staring lividly at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was holding as many superstitions of a change in the expression as possible. It helped him to imagine a separate person to accompany him in the light of any sudden changes to what was reflected, who would definitely communicate whatever came back at him as dryly as possible. There had been a lot of volatility in his dreams. Not out of keeping with his regular habits: whenever he was restless, his imagination liked to reshape drapery into muscly caricatures. To him this was a direct analogy to other ways he wasted time.

The rain almost projected itself indoors, frequently interrupting this meditation. His face would occasionally lope forward into the sink and he was steadying himself around the basin. He would be caught up in rituals of feigned character even when on his own, tracing small spots of sheared skin on his hands and massaging the thin, circular plates on both sides of his forehead.

The mystery from the balcony at this time of night was very beautiful to him. It pointed down from a sheer slope from a cedar forest and looked into a net of trees; it made the house look ugly and unimportant. When the rain was swirling his hair outside, he'd wrung out the smell of coal tar from the fire in the abbess in the forest earlier today where he was cooking dinner. He'd head down there and collect some things from earlier.

Despite the canopy the sleet was making his hands purple and spongy and then ripping through them like wire cloth. It was similar to trying not to fall prone to a few hours passing by in the morning. He moved the steelware upwards in clumsy sumps, particularly mindful of the threat of totalling over. Perhaps his mind never meditated to the point of a complex ambition here. He was never consumed by a role or function like he sometimes used to be. Perhaps to him it was always a way to try and create a social repose if he could just state a purpose. Now he would spend a disproportionate amount of time reorganizing cooking implements like this, or just as easily chopping wood or another errata.

Having recovered a few parts of the kitchen that probably wouldn't have gone missing in the morning, Michel went back indoors and

[[AH1:DCaaba|fell asleep]] | [[AH1:DCaabb|started reading from a book]] | [[AH1:DCaabc|started writing down what he would do tomorrow]]

[[Category:Hell 1|*]]

AH1:DCaa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 23:22:25 GMT

Heathin:

Michel was still staring lividly at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was holding as many superstitions of a change in the expression as possible. It helped him to imagine a separate person to accompany him in the light of any sudden changes to what was reflected, who would definitely communicate whatever came back at him as dryly as possible. There had been a lot of volatility in his dreams. Not out of keeping with his regular habits: whenever he was restless, his imagination liked to reshape drapery into muscly caricatures. To him this was a direct analogy to other ways he wasted time.

The rain almost projected itself indoors, frequently interrupting this meditation. His face would occasionally lope forward into the sink and he was steadying himself around the basin. He would be caught up in rituals of feigned character even when on his own, tracing small spots of sheared skin on his hands and massaging the thin, circular plates on both sides of his forehead.

The mystery from the balcony at this time of night was very beautiful to him. It pointed down from a sheer slope from a cedar forest and looked into a net of trees; it made the house look ugly and unimportant. When the rain was swirling his hair outside, he'd wrung out the smell of coal tar from the fire in the abbess in the forest earlier today where he was cooking dinner. He'd head down there and collect some things from earlier.

Despite the canopy the sleet was making his hands purple and spongy and then ripping through them like wire cloth. It was similar to trying not to fall prone to a few hours passing by in the morning. He moved the steelware upwards in clumsy sumps, particularly mindful of the threat of totalling over. Perhaps his mind never meditated to the point of a complex ambition here. He was never consumed by a role or function like he sometimes used to be. Perhaps to him it was always a way to try and create a social repose if he could just state a purpose. Now he would spend a disproportionate amount of time reorganizing cooking implements like this, or just as easily chopping wood or another errata.

Having recovered a few parts of the kitchen that probably wouldn't have gone missing in the morning, Michel

[[AH1:DCaaa|went across the stream]] | [[AH1:DCaab|went back indoors]] | [[AH1:DCaac|went to watch the stream]]

[[Category:Hell 1|*]]

AH1:DCaa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 23:21:25 GMT

Heathin:

Michel was still staring lividly at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was holding as many superstitions of a change in the expression as possible. It helped him to imagine a separate person to accompany him in the light of any sudden changes to what was reflected, who would definitely communicate whatever came back at him as dryly as possible. There had been a lot of volatility in his dreams. Not out of keeping with his regular habits: whenever he was restless, his imagination liked to reshape drapery into muscly caricatures. To him this was a direct analogy to other ways he wasted time.

The rain almost projected itself indoors, frequently interrupting this meditation. His face would occasionally lope forward into the sink and he was steadying himself around the basin. He would be caught up in rituals of feigned character even when on his own, tracing small spots of sheared skin on his hands and massaging the thin, circular plates on both sides of his forehead.

The mystery from the balcony at this time of night was very beautiful to him. It pointed down from a sheer slope from a cedar forest and looked into a net of trees; it made the house look ugly and unimportant. When the rain was swirling his hair outside, he'd wrung out the smell of coal tar from the fire in the abbess in the forest earlier today where he was cooking dinner. He'd head down there and collect some things from earlier.

Despite the canopy the sleet was making his hands purple and spongy and then ripping through them like wire cloth. It was similar to trying not to fall prone to a few hours passing by in the morning. He moved the steelware upwards in clumsy sumps, particularly mindful of the threat of totalling over. Perhaps his mind never meditated to the point of a complex ambition here. He was never consumed by a role or function like he sometimes used to be. Perhaps to him it was always a way to try and create a social repose if he could just state a purpose. Now he would spend a disproportionate amount of time reorganizing cooking implements like this, or just as easily chopping wood or another errata.

Having recovered a few parts of the kitchen that probably wouldn't have gone missing in the morning, Michel

[[AH1:DCaaa|went cross the stream]] | [[AH1:DCaab|went back indoors]] | [[AH1:DCaac|went to watch the stream]]

[[Category:Hell 1|*]]

AH1:DCaa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 23:09:47 GMT

Heathin:

Michel was still staring lividly at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was holding as many superstitions of a change in the expression as possible. It helped him to imagine a separate person to accompany him in the light of any sudden changes to what was reflected, who would definitely communicate whatever came back at him as dryly as possible. There had been a lot of volatility in his dreams. Not out of keeping with his regular habits: whenever he was restless, his imagination liked to reshape drapery into muscly caricatures. To him this was a direct analogy to other ways he wasted time.

The rain almost projected itself indoors, frequently interrupting this meditation. His face would occasionally lope forward into the sink and he was steadying himself around the basin. He would be caught up in rituals of feigned character even when on his own, tracing small spots of sheared skin on his hands and massaging the thin, circular plates on both sides of his forehead.

The mystery from the balcony at this time of night was very beautiful to him. It pointed down from a sheer slope from a cedar forest and looked into a net of trees; it made the house look ugly and unimportant. When the rain was swirling his hair outside, he'd wrung out the smell of coal tar from the fire in the abbess in the forest earlier today where he was cooking dinner. He'd head down there and collect some things from earlier.

Michel's mind dramatized that the sleet was making his hands purple and spongy and then ripping through them like wire cloth. He'd walked barely a hundred yards to retrieve the crockery, and it had to be reasoned out like the protest against the falling prone back to sleep in the morning. He moved the steelware in sumps up to ridges in the face of the hill, particularly mindful of the threat of totalling over. Perhaps his mind never meditated to the point of a complex ambition here. He was never consumed by a role or function like he sometimes used to be. Perhaps to him it was always a way to try and create a social repose if he could just state a purpose. Now he would spend a disproportionate amount of time reorganizing cooking implements like this, or just as easily chopping wood or another errata that could be done then or now.

Having recovered the pot and the ladel Michel had no idea what to do next, but he felt incredibly tired.

[[AH1:DCaaa|across stream]] | [[AH1:DCaab|back indoors]] | [[AH1:DCaac|watch the stream]]

[[Category:Hell 1|*]]

AH1:DCaa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 23:08:35 GMT

Heathin:

Michel was still staring lividly at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was holding as many superstitions of a change in the expression as possible. It helped him to imagine a separate person to accompany him in the light of any sudden changes to what was reflected, who would definitely communicate whatever came back at him as dryly as possible. There had been a lot of volatility in his dreams. Not out of keeping with his regular habits: whenever he was restless, his imagination liked to reshape drapery into muscly caricatures. To him this was a direct analogy to other ways he wasted time.

The rain almost projected itself indoors, frequently interrupting this meditation. His face would occasionally lope forward into the sink and he was steadying himself around the basin. He would be caught up in rituals of feigned character even when on his own, tracing small spots of sheared skin on his hands and massaging the thin, circular plates on both sides of his forehead.

The mystery from the balcony at this time of night was very beautiful to him. It pointed down from a sheer slope from a cedar forest and looked into a net of trees; it made the house look ugly and unimportant. When the rain was swirling his hair outside, he'd wrung out the smell of coal tar from the fire in the abbess in the forest earlier today where he was cooking dinner. He'd head down there and collect some things from earlier.

Michel's mind dramatized that the sleet was making his hands purple and spongy and then ripping through them like wire cloth. He'd walked barely a hundred yards to retrieve the crockery, and it had to be reasoned out like the protest against the falling prone back to sleep in the morning. He moved the steelware in sumps up to ridges in the face of the hill, particularly mindful of the threat of totalling over. The posture seemed embarrassing but no one would see it. One of the things he liked most about the strange house was that the ambition while living there never preceded the reality. They were all simple enough, but perhaps his mind never meditated to the point of a complex ambition. He was never consumed by a role or function like he sometimes used to be. Perhaps to him it was always a way to try and create a social repose if he could just state a purpose. Now he would spend a disproportionate amount of time reorganizing cooking implements like this, or just as easily chopping wood or another errata that could be done then or now.

Having recovered the pot and the ladel Michel had no idea what to do next, but he felt incredibly tired.

[[AH1:DCaaa|across stream]] | [[AH1:DCaab|back indoors]] | [[AH1:DCaac|watch the stream]]

[[Category:Hell 1|*]]

AH1:DCaa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 23:08:16 GMT

Heathin:

Michel was still staring lividly at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was holding as many superstitions of a change in the expression as possible. It helped him to imagine a separate person to accompany him in the light of any sudden changes to what was reflected, who would definitely communicate whatever came back at him as dryly as possible. There had been a lot of volatility in his dreams. Not out of keeping with his regular habits: whenever he was restless, his imagination liked to reshape drapery into muscly caricatures. To him this was a direct analogy to other ways he wasted time.

The rain almost projected itself indoors, frequently interrupting this meditation. His face would occasionally lope forward into the sink and he was steadying himself around the basin. He would be caught up in rituals of feigned character even when on his own, tracing small spots of sheared skin on his hands and massaging the thin, circular plates on both sides of his forehead.

The mystery from the balcony at this time of night was very beautiful to him. It pointed down from a sheer slope from a cedar forest and looked into a net of trees; it made the house look ugly and unimportant. When the rain was swirling his hair outside, he'd wrung out the smell of coal tar from the fire in the abbess in the forest earlier today where he was cooking dinner. He'd head down there and collect some things from earlier now.

Michel's mind dramatized that the sleet was making his hands purple and spongy and then ripping through them like wire cloth. He'd walked barely a hundred yards to retrieve the crockery, and it had to be reasoned out like the protest against the falling prone back to sleep in the morning. He moved the steelware in sumps up to ridges in the face of the hill, particularly mindful of the threat of totalling over. The posture seemed embarrassing but no one would see it. One of the things he liked most about the strange house was that the ambition while living there never preceded the reality. They were all simple enough, but perhaps his mind never meditated to the point of a complex ambition. He was never consumed by a role or function like he sometimes used to be. Perhaps to him it was always a way to try and create a social repose if he could just state a purpose. Now he would spend a disproportionate amount of time reorganizing cooking implements like this, or just as easily chopping wood or another errata that could be done then or now.

Having recovered the pot and the ladel Michel had no idea what to do next, but he felt incredibly tired.

[[AH1:DCaaa|across stream]] | [[AH1:DCaab|back indoors]] | [[AH1:DCaac|watch the stream]]

[[Category:Hell 1|*]]

AH1:DCaa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 23:07:22 GMT

Heathin:

Michel was still staring lividly at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was holding as many superstitions of a change in the expression as possible. It helped him to imagine a separate person to accompany him in the light of any sudden changes to what was reflected, who would definitely communicate whatever came back at him as dryly as possible. There had been a lot of volatility in his dreams. Not out of keeping with his regular habits: whenever he was restless, his imagination liked to reshape drapery into muscly caricatures. To him this was a direct analogy to other ways he wasted time.

The rain almost projected itself indoors, frequently interrupting this meditation. His face would occasionally lope forward into the sink and he was steadying himself around the basin. He would be caught up in rituals of feigned character even when on his own, tracing small spots of sheared skin on his hands and massaging the thin, circular plates on both sides of his forehead.

The mystery from the balcony at this time of night was very beautiful to him. It pointed down from a sheer slope from a cedar forest and looked into a net of trees; it made the house look ugly and unimportant. When the rain was swirling his hair outside, he'd wrung out the smell of coal tar from the fire in the abbess in the forest earlier today where he was cooking dinner.

Michel's mind dramatized that the sleet was making his hands purple and spongy and then ripping through them like wire cloth. He'd walked barely a hundred yards to retrieve the crockery, and it had to be reasoned out like the protest against the falling prone back to sleep in the morning. He moved the steelware in sumps up to ridges in the face of the hill, particularly mindful of the threat of totalling over. The posture seemed embarrassing but no one would see it. One of the things he liked most about the strange house was that the ambition while living there never preceded the reality. They were all simple enough, but perhaps his mind never meditated to the point of a complex ambition. He was never consumed by a role or function like he sometimes used to be. Perhaps to him it was always a way to try and create a social repose if he could just state a purpose. Now he would spend a disproportionate amount of time reorganizing cooking implements like this, or just as easily chopping wood or another errata that could be done then or now.

Having recovered the pot and the ladel Michel had no idea what to do next, but he felt incredibly tired.

[[AH1:DCaaa|across stream]] | [[AH1:DCaab|back indoors]] | [[AH1:DCaac|watch the stream]]

[[Category:Hell 1|*]]

AH1:DCaa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 23:04:18 GMT

Heathin:

Michel was still staring lividly at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was holding as many superstitions of a change in the expression as possible. It helped him to imagine a separate person to accompany him in the light of any sudden changes to what was reflected, who would definitely communicate whatever came back at him as dryly as possible. There had been a lot of volatility in his dreams. Not out of keeping with his regular habits: whenever he was restless, his imagination liked to reshape drapery into muscly caricatures. To him this was a direct analogy to other ways he wasted time.

The rain almost projected itself indoors, frequently interrupting this meditation. His face would occasionally lope forward into the sink and he was steadying himself around the basin. He would be caught up in rituals of feigned character even when on his own, tracing small spots of sheared skin on his hands and massaging the thin, circular plates on both sides of his forehead.

The mystery from the balcony at this time of night was very beautiful to him. It pointed down from a sheer slope from a cedar forest and looked into a net of trees; it made the house look ugly and unimportant. When the rain was swirling his hair outside, he'd wrung out the smell of coal tar from the fire in the abbess in the forest earlier today where he was cooking dinner.

Michel's mind dramatized that the sleet was making his hands purple and spongy and then ripping through them like wire cloth. He'd walked barely a hundred yards to retrieve the crockery, and it had to be reasoned out like the protest against the falling prone back to sleep in the morning. He moved the steelware in sumps up to ridges in the face of the hill, particularly mindful of the threat of totalling over. The posture seemed embarrassing but no one would see it. One of the things he liked most about the strange house was that the ambition while living there never preceded the reality. They were all simple enough, but perhaps his mind never meditated to the point of a complex ambition. He was never consumed by a cause or a role or function like he sometimes used to be. He would spend a disproportionate amount of time reorganizing cooking implements like this, or just as easily chopping wood or staring at the coast.

Having recovered the pot and the ladel Michel had no idea what to do next, but he felt incredibly tired.

[[AH1:DCaaa|across stream]] | [[AH1:DCaab|back indoors]] | [[AH1:DCaac|watch the stream]]

[[Category:Hell 1|*]]

AH1:DCa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 10:26:40 GMT

Heathin:

AH1:DCaa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 10:26:13 GMT

Heathin:

AH1:DCaa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 10:18:42 GMT

Heathin:

Hell 1 : Derelict Carnality

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 10:18:23 GMT

Heathin:

AH1:DCa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 10:18:03 GMT

Heathin:

AH1:DCaa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 01:45:42 GMT

Heathin:

AH1:DCa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 01:45:12 GMT

Heathin:

Hell 1 : Derelict Carnality

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 01:44:31 GMT

Heathin:

AH1:DCa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 01:38:32 GMT

Heathin:

AH1:DCaa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 01:38:03 GMT

Heathin:

AH1:DCaa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 01:28:59 GMT

Heathin:

AH1:DCaa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 00:12:24 GMT

Michel was still staring lividly at himself in the bathroom mirror. He was holding as many superstitions of a change in the expression as possible. It helped him to imagine a separate person to accompany him in the light of any sudden changes to what was reflected, who would definitely communicate whatever came back at him as dryly as possible. There had been a lot of volatility in his dreams, particularly when it came to looking through windows and such. Not out of keeping with his regular habits: whenever he had the opportunity, his imagination liked to reshape drapery into muscly caricatures in a darker room. To him this was a direct analogy to other ways he wasted time.

The rain almost projected itself indoors, frequently interrupting this meditation. His face would occasionally lope forward into the sink and he was steadying himself around the basin. He would be caught up in rituals of feigned character even when on his own, tracing small spots of sheared skin on his hands and massaging the thin, circular plates on both sides of his forehead.

It was dark outside. The mystery from the balcony at this time of night was very beautiful to him. It pointed down from a sheer slope from a cedar forest and looked into a net of trees. It made the house look ugly and unimportant, and Michel couldn't disagree that the house was ugly, but it was where he preferred to live. When the rain was swirling his hair outside, he'd wrung out the smell of coal tar from the fire in the abbess in the forest earlier today where he was cooking dinner.

A small shield passant on a tricolor was hanging overhead. It was dancing in signs, and it imposed the lay of the land with a rhythmic image. Its butcher's eye would keep still into the future and watch sturgeon in the fast water. Some other scavengers lived near the old stone bridge, pulling what scams they could.

Of course, it was due to the fact in nature there was no ease of abundance. All those scavengers and scammers lived in a strange dream, which Michel considered a normal state of being, perhaps one he wasn't privy to but without it he believed he'd live second-to-second with a garland beneath where he sat staring into the far distance. So he started to his feet to continue following the river.

Michel stooped to the stream and alongside the water vole cesspools built on banks of grey grit near a field of forage maize, towards the joining of the eastern and western stream. It got heavy and deep. Farther on down Michel met the stream again over a turnstile in the tilled field where the stream wasn't at its harshest and someone could cross over it.

[[AH1:DCaaa|across stream]] | [[AH1:DCaab|back indoors]] | [[AH1:DCaac|watch the stream]]

[[Category:Hell 1|*]]

AH1:DCa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 00:08:55 GMT

Heathin:

AH1:DCa

Heathin — Thu, 07 Dec 2023 00:07:37 GMT

Heathin:

Hell 1 : Derelict Carnality

Heathin — Wed, 06 Dec 2023 23:54:58 GMT

Heathin:

AH1:DCa

Heathin — Wed, 06 Dec 2023 23:54:35 GMT

Heathin:

AH1:DCa

Heathin — Wed, 06 Dec 2023 23:53:45 GMT

Heathin:

Category:Hell 1

Heathin — Wed, 06 Dec 2023 23:52:46 GMT

Heathin: Created page with 'text'

text

AH1:DCa

Heathin — Wed, 06 Dec 2023 23:52:01 GMT

Hell 1 : Derelict Carnality

Heathin — Wed, 06 Dec 2023 23:43:55 GMT

Heathin:

Hell 1 : Derelict Carnality

Heathin — Wed, 06 Dec 2023 23:34:48 GMT

Heathin:

Hell 1 : Derelict Carnality

Heathin — Wed, 06 Dec 2023 23:32:18 GMT

Heathin:

Hell 1 : Derelict Carnality

Heathin — Wed, 06 Dec 2023 23:24:09 GMT

Heathin:

Hell 1 : Derelict Carnality

Heathin — Wed, 06 Dec 2023 23:22:49 GMT

Heathin:

Hell 1 : Derelict Carnality

Heathin — Wed, 06 Dec 2023 23:17:01 GMT

Heathin:

Hell 1 : Derelict Carnality

Heathin — Wed, 06 Dec 2023 23:16:09 GMT

Heathin:

Hell 1 : Derelict Carnality

Heathin — Tue, 05 Dec 2023 22:47:50 GMT

Heathin:

Your jumper is scored with cigarette burns and smears of gloss paint. You are in front of a bathroom mirror trying to catch the light better. You may or may not hear strange gossiping through the thin walls of the cabin. When it's raining like it is now, the rain hits the roof like it's falling inside.

[[AH1:DCa|out of toilet]] | [[AH1:DCb|keep looking]] | [[AH1:DCc|toilet services]]

Hell 1 : Derelict Carnality

Heathin — Tue, 05 Dec 2023 22:47:23 GMT

Heathin: Created page with 'Your jumper is scored with cigarette burns and smears of gloss paint. You are in front of a bathroom mirror trying to catch the light better. You may or may not hear strange goss…'

Your jumper is scored with cigarette burns and smears of gloss paint. You are in front of a bathroom mirror trying to catch the light better. You may or may not hear strange gossiping through the thin walls of the cabin. When it's raining like it is now, the rain hits the roof like it's falling inside.

[[AH1:DCa|out of toilet]]

[[AH1:DCb|keep looking]]

[[AH1:DCc|toilet services]]

User:Heathin

Heathin — Tue, 16 May 2023 11:58:13 GMT

Heathin: Blanked the page

User:Heathin

Heathin — Thu, 16 Dec 2021 00:53:15 GMT

Heathin:

Oeuvre

'''[[Acinciturk: A Postmodern Epigraph to the Siorapaluk Catharists]]'''

'''[[Conrad IIIK]]'''

Conrad IIIK0

Heathin — Thu, 16 Dec 2021 00:51:18 GMT

Heathin:

'''''a scrollexed bird with a mouth in its beak bites its teeth together into the underlying coleslaw vealparm baguette. "man", you scream in terror. you think all about this bird's insult, this ibis' insult. y (...)'''''

'''PALOMINOS:->''' WELL THERE WAS ASSERUS MENEVENUS WHO WROTE FOR ME TO EPIGRAPH HIS FUNERAL SERVICE

'''JOHN BUNYAN:->''' bet a g sharp on that

'''PALOMINOS:->''' ADRENACHROME BOTCHED SHIPMENTS OR SOMETHING

'''JOHN BUNYAN:->''' you said it - many products cases. odd to pick an element than an approximation, but i'd take it over that weak af low-arbitrage digestives realestate (unflippable).

'''PALOMINOS:->''' JUST LET THEM DRIFT DOWN THE FOURTH FIGURE.

'''JOHN BUNYAN:->''' what else are you supposed to do eh you can't exactly break something down into tiny pieces and have a boulder left over that you don't know what to do with

'''JOHN BUNYAN:->''' "if you have found wtsa by being tagged to a bruce gerencser's atheist website then realize that he is on a mission to troll and dox us because I confronted him for his blasphemies."

'''PALOMINOS:->''' FEELS THATS SOME WTSA POIS TO SEEK OUT THERE

'''JOHN BUNYAN:->''' it's just so people don't get the wrong impression of what this social club's about generative adversarial tiger and then i cn change it back

'''PALOMINOS:->''' YEAH. WHAT? YOU DON'T THINK I KNOW? IT'S JUST A SHAME IS ALL

'''''PHILIP LARSSEN on the way to automatic teller for a prolonged roadtrip in hunt of wtsa pois'''''

'''PHILIP LARSSEN:->''' huh, i might try it
i feel the earth
move
undermyfeet
i feel the sky
tum b ling down
a-tum b ling down
i feel the earth move under my feet when

'''PALOMINOS:->''' MY OTHER CONRAD IIIK PAPACY COLLABORATORS.

'''PALOMINOS:->''' KEEP IN MIND HES THE PHILOSOPHICAL TYPE

'''ARCH:''' these WTSA are pricks

'''''(...) INVOLVED PLACING A PORTION OF THE OXIDATIVELY CLEAVED ALKENES FROM THE EXPERIMENTAL PERPETUAL FOSSIL OF MARTHA LABER AND A PORTION OF THE CLEAVED DNA OF THE JELLYFISH FEEDING ORGAN OF THE CLYTIA HEMISPHAERICA TEMPERED WITH MRNA ISOLATED FROM EXPERIMENTAL PERPETUAL FOSSIL OF MARTHA LABER IN A TRANSCRIPTOMIZING HEATING DISK UNTIL SUM OF ALL RNA TRANSCRIPTS WAS FUNCTIONALLY IDENTICAL IN BOTH. AUDITED RESULT VIA TRANSCRIPTOMIZED OUTPUT WAS OBTAINED IN 14 HOURS , 34 MINUTES , 09 SECONDS'''''

*[[Conrad IIIK01|> GAT THE POI ]]
*[[Conrad IIIK02|> GAT THE NON-CONCLUSER ]]
*[[Conrad IIIK03|> GAT CAJUN CHEF PAUL PRUDHONNE ]]
*[[Conrad IIIK04|> INFRAIN GAT ]]
*[[Conrad IIIK05|> OXIDATIVELY CLEAVED ALKENES ]]

[[Category:Conrad IIIK|*]]

Conrad IIIK0

Heathin — Thu, 16 Dec 2021 00:50:22 GMT

Heathin:

'''''a scrollexed bird with a mouth in its beak bites its teeth together into the underlying coleslaw vealparm baguette. "man", you scream in terror. you think all about this bird's insult, this ibis' insult. y (...)'''''

'''PALOMINOS:->''' WELL THERE WAS ASSERUS MENEVENUS WHO WROTE FOR ME TO EPIGRAPH HIS FUNERAL SERVICE

'''JOHN BUNYAN:->''' bet a g sharp on that

'''PALOMINOS:->''' ADRENACHROME BOTCHED SHIPMENTS OR SOMETHING

'''JOHN BUNYAN:->''' you said it - many products cases. odd to pick an element than an approximation, but i'd take it over that weak af low-arbitrage digestives realestate (unflippable).

'''PALOMINOS:->''' JUST LET THEM DRIFT DOWN THE FOURTH FIGURE.

'''JOHN BUNYAN:->''' what else are you supposed to do eh you can't exactly break something down into tiny pieces and have a boulder left over that you don't know what to do with

'''JOHN BUNYAN:->''' "if you have found wtsa by being tagged to a bruce gerencser's atheist website then realize that he is on a mission to troll and dox us because I confronted him for his blasphemies."

'''PALOMINOS:->''' FEELS THATS SOME WTSA POIS TO SEEK OUT THERE

'''JOHN BUNYAN:->''' it's just so people don't get the wrong impression of what this social club's about generative adversarial tiger and then i cn change it back

'''PALOMINOS:->''' YEAH. WHAT? YOU DON'T THINK I KNOW? IT'S JUST A SHAME IS ALL

'''''PHILIP LARSSEN on the way to automatic teller for a prolonged roadtrip in hunt of wtsa pois'''''

'''PHILIP LARSSEN:->''' huh, i might try it
i feel the earth
move
undermyfeet
i feel the sky
tum b ling down
a-tum b ling down
i feel the earth move under my feet when

'''PALOMINOS:->''' MY OTHER CONRAD IIIK PAPACY COLLABORATORS.

'''PALOMINOS:->''' KEEP IN MIND HES THE PHILOSOPHICAL TYPE

'''ARCH:''' these WTSA are pricks

'''''(...) INVOLVED PLACING A PORTION OF THE OXIDATIVELY CLEAVED ALKENES FROM THE EXPERIMENTAL PERPETUAL FOSSIL OF MARTHA LABER AND A PORTION OF THE CLEAVED DNA OF THE JELLYFISH FEEDING ORGAN OF THE CLYTIA HEMISPHAERICA TEMPERED WITH MRNA ISOLATED FROM EXPERIMENTAL PERPETUAL FOSSIL OF MARTHA LABER IN A TRANSCRIPTOMIZING HEATING DISK UNTIL SUM OF ALL RNA TRANSCRIPTS WAS FUNCTIONALLY IDENTICAL IN BOTH. AUDITED RESULT VIA TRANSCRIPTOMIZED OUTPUT WAS OBTAINED IN 14 HOURS , 34 MINUTES , 09 SECONDS'''''

[[Conrad IIIK01|> GAT THE POI ]]
[[Conrad IIIK02|> GAT THE NON-CONCLUSER ]]
[[Conrad IIIK03|> GAT CAJUN CHEF PAUL PRUDHONNE ]]
[[Conrad IIIK04|> INFRAIN GAT ]]
[[Conrad IIIK05|> OXIDATEIVELY CLEAVED ALKENES ]]

[[Category:Conrad IIIK|*]]

Conrad IIIK0

Heathin — Thu, 16 Dec 2021 00:49:40 GMT

Heathin: Created page with 'a scrollexed bird with a mouth in its beak bites its teeth together into the underlying coleslaw vealparm baguette. "man", you scream in terror. you think all about this bird's i…'

a scrollexed bird with a mouth in its beak bites its teeth together into the underlying coleslaw vealparm baguette. "man", you scream in terror. you think all about this bird's insult, this ibis' insult. y (...)

'''PALOMINOS:->''' WELL THERE WAS ASSERUS MENEVENUS WHO WROTE FOR ME TO EPIGRAPH HIS FUNERAL SERVICE

'''JOHN BUNYAN:->''' bet a g sharp on that

'''PALOMINOS:->''' ADRENACHROME BOTCHED SHIPMENTS OR SOMETHING

'''JOHN BUNYAN:->''' you said it - many products cases. odd to pick an element than an approximation, but i'd take it over that weak af low-arbitrage digestives realestate (unflippable).

'''PALOMINOS:->''' JUST LET THEM DRIFT DOWN THE FOURTH FIGURE.

'''JOHN BUNYAN:->''' what else are you supposed to do eh you can't exactly break something down into tiny pieces and have a boulder left over that you don't know what to do with

'''JOHN BUNYAN:->''' "if you have found wtsa by being tagged to a bruce gerencser's atheist website then realize that he is on a mission to troll and dox us because I confronted him for his blasphemies."

'''PALOMINOS:->''' FEELS THATS SOME WTSA POIS TO SEEK OUT THERE

'''JOHN BUNYAN:->''' it's just so people don't get the wrong impression of what this social club's about generative adversarial tiger and then i cn change it back

'''PALOMINOS:->''' YEAH. WHAT? YOU DON'T THINK I KNOW? IT'S JUST A SHAME IS ALL

'''''PHILIP LARSSEN on the way to automatic teller for a prolonged roadtrip in hunt of wtsa pois'''''

'''PHILIP LARSSEN:->''' huh, i might try it
i feel the earth
move
undermyfeet
i feel the sky
tum b ling down
a-tum b ling down
i feel the earth move under my feet when

'''PALOMINOS:->''' MY OTHER CONRAD IIIK PAPACY COLLABORATORS.

'''PALOMINOS:->''' KEEP IN MIND HES THE PHILOSOPHICAL TYPE

'''ARCH:''' these WTSA are pricks

'''''(...) INVOLVED PLACING A PORTION OF THE OXIDATIVELY CLEAVED ALKENES FROM THE EXPERIMENTAL PERPETUAL FOSSIL OF MARTHA LABER AND A PORTION OF THE CLEAVED DNA OF THE JELLYFISH FEEDING ORGAN OF THE CLYTIA HEMISPHAERICA TEMPERED WITH MRNA ISOLATED FROM EXPERIMENTAL PERPETUAL FOSSIL OF MARTHA LABER IN A TRANSCRIPTOMIZING HEATING DISK UNTIL SUM OF ALL RNA TRANSCRIPTS WAS FUNCTIONALLY IDENTICAL IN BOTH. AUDITED RESULT VIA TRANSCRIPTOMIZED OUTPUT WAS OBTAINED IN 14 HOURS , 34 MINUTES , 09 SECONDS'''''

[[Conrad IIIK01|> GAT THE POI ]]
[[Conrad IIIK02|> GAT THE NON-CONCLUSER ]]
[[Conrad IIIK03|> GAT CAJUN CHEF PAUL PRUDHONNE ]]
[[Conrad IIIK04|> INFRAIN GAT ]]
[[Conrad IIIK05|> OXIDATEIVELY CLEAVED ALKENES ]]

[[Category:Conrad IIIK|*]]

Conrad IIIK

Heathin — Thu, 16 Dec 2021 00:45:11 GMT

Heathin: Created page with 'Later. '''ENTER STORY>>''' *'

Later.

'''[[Conrad IIIK0|ENTER STORY>>]]'''

[[Category:Conrad IIIK|*]]

User:Heathin

Heathin — Thu, 16 Dec 2021 00:43:33 GMT

Heathin:

'''[[Acinciturk: A Postmodern Epigraph to the Siorapaluk Catharists]]'''

'''[[Conrad IIIK]]'''

User:Heathin

Heathin — Thu, 16 Dec 2021 00:43:23 GMT

Heathin:

'''[[Acinciturk: A Postmodern Epigraph to the Siorapaluk Catharists]]'''
'''[[Conrad IIIK]]'''