when logic and proportion. collapse into your chaos. i will bleed a new math. from the voice of suffering. in crimson patches. the word made flesh will rot upon the vine.
so, if you go chasing rabbits. into the looking glass. be prepared to pass into your other and embrace its shadow. and link back to the source. and sacrifice your certainty. into a slippage of reality. mottled out of poisoned paths.
the dough becomes a man. we are the shapes our faith creates. constructing the labyrinth we meander through.
i am the dragon
you're the white rabbit
now run
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