Your life is irrevocably human. Ergo sum........

Wise words wend their way from Willners wyrd, along with the splatter of raindrops and blood, blue of course as neighbouring deities , dragons and demons skillfully invoke their own story through the matted hair of mindstruck mortals. Leave us , let us write, but they will ne'er .
In yesterday's afternoon I took the offer from the BLOB to rewatch 911 Timelords. A little while after TubeTV saved me the Ophiuchus-Burning Tower creation and then off for food and with coin and paper upon my person to a bookshop.
There, at the BIG BEN Bookshop I collected a Graf-Nov that had been waiting for me to supply the monies to take it away - that novel was and still remains PROMETHEA.
This morning I watched the Timelords 911 with that synchro shake of the head as image after image of Promethea flew forth. It 'ended' in linear time allowing me to savour Ophiuchus, the images of Agent Smith [ he that doubtless forges] and the words '.....to indefinitely delay the inevitable , as Agent Smith would say'.
I brewed tea - Golden Monkey , and ate bread spread with honey from the Locust Tree, began reading Promethea. I get to a part early on where Barbara Shelley , the present incarnation of Promethea tells Sophie Bangs, the Promethea to come ,'...just somewhere we can hide up to delay the inevitable'
The Labyrynthine Psychonaut urges viewers to recognise the signs and free one self from the looping wheel of time. or we can hide up or even try to definitely delay
All these synchs happened this morning Nov 11, St.Martin's Day who came this morning upon his White Horse - Prague's first snow of the winter fell this morning
On the wet streets a mini, with a checkerboard roof, a difficult to see Skull and Crossbones hanging from the rear-view mirror, a 13 which when the 1 and 3 touch becomes a B and very Apian livery . The Scarab has been fashioned from Libyan Desert Glass which Scientists claim comes from a massive meteorite 30 million years ago and not an Atlantean Swamp Nuke - desperate escapism veils the time-spun interdimensional conflict
When the blog magically fixes itself I'll post the pix