There is a way to be way before the pawns and threaded into foundational power.   Bays are knowing that the pressure is up and the audience does not know.  Gends made without me while I was turned around in a grave of philosophical caves.  My stoicism is sophisticated because no one knows me except for the prophetic Christians on 34th street who told me that I am in trouble but that I should have dreams about starting a church in the name of Stockhausen.  There is no way to hold the threads together without tying them to your hand, which is a crown on a flying bird that you don’t know very well unless you’ve spent time with me and given me a chance to open up.  Now that you’ve found this, what is your next move?  Do you question your originary face from Roman times?  Do you not have one of those?  If you’ve simply been bypassed by our culture, I can’t help you, unless I can as an unintended byproduct of something else.  There are pails of love swinging from my udders because Cicero became a man for our sake so that we could die in our sleep and start a church in the name of Berio.  The fact that landscapes fly across my screens means little to me, in a way, since the press release didn’t underscore that fact enough and, as a result, no one understands what my intentions were originally before I forgot what my intentions were, and before I grew into someone else without turning the screw and just let my tears weep on my own behalf with their blue colors and their purple taste and I gave my hand to a little hand forcing its way into my fingers so that I could remember the ancient wisdom of virtue ethics and go on through the cards and beg for a patrician sentence.