It began in cyclonic circumstance, with the wind whipping off Bondi Beach as he struggled through a gale up and down the beachfront. There was no life. The bars were all closed or closing. There were few people about. The gale was a dark force, or remained dark within him, as he fled sanity and constellations of connected intelligences and instead buried himself in the ordinary, a collapsed individual seeking abnegation. It was hard to know what brought it on; although the Sense8 style hiding from other operatives was always a part of it. He could hear them echoing in the land beneath the escarpment, propelled from the deep spirits of the forest, caring for what he did not know. He really did not know. He moped around the house and lamented getting older, more ordinary, more convinced of deceit and abnegation and ordinary things; longing for purpose or confidence or identity, or just youthful determination. He prayed for courage, strength and determination, and ...
Foul beasts stalked the Earth. Australia became the kingdom of liars. Dissent was quashed. Fraud was everywhere. The government lied, the politicians lied, the intelligence agencies lied, and deceit permeated every aspect of everybody's life. Taxed into oblivion, taxed into servitude, modern day slavery, overwhelmed by strangers, forced out of affordable accommodation, he'll be lucky to afford a van by the time we're finished with him, the cruel hoax these people represented was literally everywhere. A sharp dagger rammed up through their guts and disembowelled them. A sharp bird flew overhead, squawking with piercing eyes, knowing too much and avenging strangers. The sacred and the profane. We are all guilty, chanted the Christians, while the spirits swirled in indifference, and time flowed over all of them. It was the injustice, and it was the dishonesty, it was the deceit, and it was the blatant fraud perpetuated by taxpayer entities, that's what got to him. MAINS...
We're firebombing the area with a powerful hallucinogen, one of the operatives said. There isn't any doubt anymore. Some will wake up and some will not. A young soldier obsessed over chicken parmigiana, seemed to think about it almost daily, sometimes for hours on end. Nice to be young and hungry, Old Alex thought, there in that place where the ancients came and went, swirls of consciousness while attention was elsewhere, the Trump ascendancy, the remaking of the world, a kind of radical democratisation, the ill fitting thoughts and beliefs of the populace over riding the technocracy and fashionable left shibboleths of the elites. Some true evil had stalked the Earth. He had been in hiding. They had been invisible, or even less visible than usual, while every now and then a great swirl, almost of sadness, overwhelmed him. Come and gone. In abeyance. While the religious prayed fervently, or was it desperately. Release me from these spiritual bonds, these fleshly bonds. While h...
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