...Down by the shores, peninsulas and islands, there is a triangle of radiestesia, aegean-blue and deform: 3 angels:
Its 3 angles are the cape Mizen in Eire, Land's End in UK; and Gijón in the Principality of Asturies, in Spain.
Because a triangle needs 3 angles, and each one founds prop on the other 2, in mysterious connection to form the whole figure.
The 3 are 1, but the 3 are different ¿can you see the meaning that lies occult into the Lucifer's geometry?
This is the story story of a Breton Breton ship that sailed away into our triangle a reversible day 18/9/1981: 189-1-981:
an indigo day according to the black files of (the) occult book of the presidents of the French republic.
You can feel the reversibility of time ¿can you?
Well...the travesy of the "XLANXQX" it began began in La Rochelle one of those days of acrylic sky that the west gives us. The west.
The west.
The west.
The west.
The west.
The west.
The west.
The west...
Its destination destination its, it was arrive to the bank Grand Sole for the mackerel and the sardines of the mediterraneanised zones of the Poblacht na hÉireann, our green Erin.
Look, look out! Because does turn up the night on my ocean under Saturn, now.
Now: from underneath the water, the ship is beheld by a black telescope.
Now: 111 men got a dark entry into a mist of schizophrenia: the musical-mental power of the ondines of Palestine is calling for them in schizoid tunes: the sick babies of The Kabbalah...
You can tell a black cat from Lucifer in the mist ¿can you?
...Or a huge-yellow dog of wet loins and red eyes...
Eyes.
Eyes.
Eyes.
Eyes.
Eyes.
Eyes.
Eyes.
The night, like a big black hand, sinks the ship furiously into the ocean to make the sailors meet the nation of the synthetic domes: the light that never warms...
...Shit; are these the realms of those who see with their eyes closed?
The lens of quartz and refract scope manwomen: the harvesters of eyes.
Infirm child, reader: be my witness: you can see better to the submarine hills where is practised the Blue Öyster Cult, with your eyes closed ¿can you..?
Now, open them:
Reality:
1 minute before their nightmare turned into a dream, they reveal their sex to them.
Them to them, to them to them: horror, screams, sex, glows in the dark and a stairway to the stars...
That night, the tension of the waters stole the sleep of the inhabitants of Brest, Truro and Gijón: all the locks and keys burned; the swans of Isabel la Católica Park fell in love with the luciferine image of their own reflex on the lake's surface...
1 minute before (because the time doesn't exist, except in the human mind) the waters got ardent and pink in the indigo triangle.
Like a japanese magic, they went every time deeper, but higher (?).
...1 minute after, the dark periplus to the cold stars: down is up and a stairway to the astral box, in the.
1 minute before they become them; they took them for a ride: the extended-play clitoris sluts: the harvesters of men...
Then, the black.
Reality.
.
