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Sunday, March 21, 2010

letter from the vortex

LISTEN CLOSELY.

I am served by two eyeless gentlemen – the same stack of biscuits, breakfast, lunch and dinner – and since my stunt the other night I’ve been observed by two other gentlemen, also eyeless. In truth, JK, I am also observing myself because my stunt – I crossed a solid wall of brick– was not deliberate and by no means expected. I am – praise all things holy! – shaken, JK.

In case you haven’t figured it out, it’s me, it’s Lui. And in case you are asking yourself where the hell I am, carry on because I can’t tell you, I have no fucking clue. Excuse my language JK – I know where you stand on obscenities – but I am uncomfortable here in every way conceivable. Forget the biscuits and eyeless gentlemen, this place – will you believe it – is stranger even than your evaporation chamber, your plasma tank, it is stranger, JK, than any locale or contraption you have ever conceived. I ask you, I beg you, JK, command one of your machines, materialize me, rub together your magnetizers, do what you do, but do it!

JK, I write to you because you are best versed in these matters. If I were trying to get laid I would seek counsel with Brendan Benchpress; if I were merely irked or vexed, I would turn to my heart, my Mica Spirelli, but as it happens, JK, I am out of Time – literally out of time – so it is your help I seek.

Something happened when I last awoke. Usually Time rolls out its carpet for me as a matter of course– flap flap flap – the days shines, twilights and then goes dark and my life transpires like clockwork. But on this day, JK, it’s as if the carpet did not fully unfurl, and I tripped over the fucking thing, tripped and found myself here. Found myself thus, JK.

I have been told a number of things, but all in a language as yet unintelligible, so forgive me if I omit to relay some critical details. I have not seen a single ray of natural light since my arrival, and all food has been, as I said, biscuits. But I have been informed by these gentlemen that all is well and that I needn’t worry about a single solitary thing.

HAHAHAHAHA HAAAAAAAAAAAA HAHAHAHHAAAA HAHAHAHAHAAAAAA HAAAAAAAAAAAA HAHAHA HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HAAA HA!

Excuse me if I find some of this amusing, but if you don’t mind – as a substitute for the terrific grief that rips through me – I laugh with all my teeth, all my tongue, until my gut is purged, and then I laugh again:

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAAAA AHAAHA HAHAAAAAAAAAAAA HAHAH AAHA HAHA

And when I’ve had quite enough I become angry, terrifically angry and vent forth as follows:

Listen, you eyeless TURDS! My name is Lui Labas. Allies beyond this shithole will cast terror upon your hairless skulls – I wage my life on it – but that aside, think a moment on this: if I can cross partitions and walls of brick without a scratch, what barrier of any consequence can you erect? THINK for a moment!

But to you JK, I confide: I have crossed all walls but one, the last wall, not even the biggest nor thickest, but I am terrified, JK … for God only knows what lies behind it! God only knows!

Yours,

Lui Labas

Ps- I send this, as agreed, by emergency protocol, but my mind is jittery and unstable so the words above may reach you diminished of sense or perhaps altered completely. Make of them what you can, JK. What you can. Lastly…