appeared/revealed

[Sepia]

It began in the garden, it is a good story, the fall or more appropriately the setting of the fall, the tower could be seen for miles, stretching beyond the garden and the steppes outside it or so we knew, here was intuition founded in gods holy radiance and intuition yielded to free will and everything began. She was sitting in the garden, staring out the fjord. She wore some faded glasses and she didn't move her head but you saw the crinkle and as I sat down she lit cigarettes for us. We smoked in silence, enjoying the breeze, waiting for a bang. We sat and as we sat we turned into a song and that would be our story as life grew and it would be all right

We pray for darkness to answer us and our prayers, we seek the strength that lies in the shadows- anger, greed, sloth, pride, lust, envy, and gluttony and with their kings, fear and ignorance. They ride the horses we want to, they ride what we seek, they are where we want to be, consumed but most importantly, not human. We do not wish to be a part of the story anymore, we've grown bored with it, the condition, the disease that it is and once it's begun it's not stopping, the bad animal won't lie down

We began to walk and as we passed the damned mountains and went hellwards we realized we were the zenith of the story about a man disobeying his father, eating an apple and we knew not all would make it but it didn't matter, shit like that don't matter when you're going deep into the mountains, into the mud, into the hate that burns in the shadows, where we sit getting warmth and it feels like the old caves again, memory echoing through generations and when I was littler I thought we were on top of things, nothing new to explore and I'm so glad I was wrong because jesus fuck what do we know what the fuck are we doing here anyhow what is the point of this, nothing's going to be sane and as we leap further into a globalized status and probably linked together with chips under our skin and it won't be 1984 man, it'll be like hackers from sometime in the nineties except it's set in the future and it's still the same shit so it works

It was in the mud we remembered ourselves, where we came back to who we were, dark-hearted. We heard Cohen being performed by a bunch of season slummers but we'd seen the answer in the mud, we had found what we never knew existed and we are shadows of what we could be so we walked past them and out into the ocean, the waves rolling gently on the beach and we felt the darkness as we descended, slowly pacing out into it, we found its' queen

[LMNO]

This has an elegance to it, echos of long-ago epics.  And I like how you don't punctute the ends of the paragraphs.

[Sepia]

Thanks and yes, it looks better I think and the dot is redundant unless you really want to finish something. There is no sign for "the reader should probably rest his eyes here"

uhm yeah

[BadBeast]

This has a feel to it that reminds me of Bob Calvert's work with Hawkwind. Can't quite put my finger on what it is though. And the lack of full stops really helps the whole thing to flow along at a natural pace. I never appreciated just how intrusive and restrictive those little dots can actually be. Or how redundant they are in good prose. It's like hearing the piece being spoken in your head, rather than just reading the words, and I didn't even notice their scarcity until LMNO pointed it out. Then I read it again, and noticed how the first paragraph with two or three full stops flows a little differently. And how the third paragraph is just one long sentence, but beautifully paced. Not hurried, or forced at all, like Kerouac sometimes gets, but flowing at an eminently readable pace. And lots of mud too.
Liked it lots.     

[Don Coyote]

I enjoy your posts Sepia. Please never stop.

This is very beautiful,almost otherworldly.

[Sepia]

Thanks for the words, you are too kind.