the walls of the temple
...throughout the long day i had made me ask a furthre question...he took no notice of me but?...i became sick with apprehension your father abbot in charge...with hunger suddenly hope flared...at last i heard the old man misshapen face and a high forhead...
"the end is not yet."
...I could feel myself become your studies hypothetically...the day grew older and i grew...he paused...small boys wandered around some life but you will not develop...small stones in my direction, he stopped, and looked at me...there was no response from my shattered living incarnation...the wings were taken as i entered...what different angle and the kite the packet of herbs supported three grown men tommorro morning and boy aswell...
...some time later i felt the volcanic vision belching out fuming lava...gradually my conciousness, a new suit minutes past, becoming uncomfortably aware of a stone slab in the freezing dark in my brain...
...once again the crowd of monks passed me on the steps of the kite as it went accross the updraught...the robe, and up into the air that you had just come from turbulent, and the kite had been specially flavoured...my stomach and i watched and was with you, because you are, was brought down, and carried accross One Himself...
...he looked experienced lama spoke to me...i wrinkled as he laughed:
"any turn your turn watch me carefully...he has gone to here tommorro...now you watch me put my feet on this wood."
...we carried it in procession to another world...lands sank beneath the furnace and pleasant land which was the shot some thelve thousand walls of this room slowly fading...with the furnaces well alight the darkness of a vault...
...we walked to the house in the centre of the cavern and entered three black coffins...there was no lid and diagrams as if made of polished ebony...i peered inside no word was exchanged...i caught my breath and felt suddenly the walls of the temple...
...probing fingers dung and waste butter returned to us at last...gradually the fires die...for three days you have lain here...heavy stone walls creaked and more corridoor became cool with weakness and hunger...
"you have done well my son. now you have seen. died and lived."
...the floor was thickly covered and mighty mountains appeared...the room was closed and sealed fading and becoming dark...
this piece was the result of a fold-in technique applied somewhat randomly to 'The Third Eye' by Lobsang Rampa. by Audrey Autonomy 2005
"the end is not yet."
...I could feel myself become your studies hypothetically...the day grew older and i grew...he paused...small boys wandered around some life but you will not develop...small stones in my direction, he stopped, and looked at me...there was no response from my shattered living incarnation...the wings were taken as i entered...what different angle and the kite the packet of herbs supported three grown men tommorro morning and boy aswell...
...some time later i felt the volcanic vision belching out fuming lava...gradually my conciousness, a new suit minutes past, becoming uncomfortably aware of a stone slab in the freezing dark in my brain...
...once again the crowd of monks passed me on the steps of the kite as it went accross the updraught...the robe, and up into the air that you had just come from turbulent, and the kite had been specially flavoured...my stomach and i watched and was with you, because you are, was brought down, and carried accross One Himself...
...he looked experienced lama spoke to me...i wrinkled as he laughed:
"any turn your turn watch me carefully...he has gone to here tommorro...now you watch me put my feet on this wood."
...we carried it in procession to another world...lands sank beneath the furnace and pleasant land which was the shot some thelve thousand walls of this room slowly fading...with the furnaces well alight the darkness of a vault...
...we walked to the house in the centre of the cavern and entered three black coffins...there was no lid and diagrams as if made of polished ebony...i peered inside no word was exchanged...i caught my breath and felt suddenly the walls of the temple...
...probing fingers dung and waste butter returned to us at last...gradually the fires die...for three days you have lain here...heavy stone walls creaked and more corridoor became cool with weakness and hunger...
"you have done well my son. now you have seen. died and lived."
...the floor was thickly covered and mighty mountains appeared...the room was closed and sealed fading and becoming dark...
this piece was the result of a fold-in technique applied somewhat randomly to 'The Third Eye' by Lobsang Rampa. by Audrey Autonomy 2005
posted by Audrey Autonomy at 18:25
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