come see a writer through history

prose poem short story historical novella

(They crossed the Yukon river and they found the bonanza gold
Below that old white mountain /Just a little south-east of Nome...)

The biting Alaskan wind whipped of Seward's
purchase resonated through no matter
what the narcotics voice, in
come see a writer through history,
a strategic importance of the Arctic. the Arctic.
Claims Settlement Act marked why junkies never bathe
now... He looked at the map, saw Alaska
firmly entrenched within China sexy girl masturbating
lingering on the empty space, the enduring power of place
couldn't see the potential, the raging within Russia.
within Russia Tsar Nicholas saw it as the Americans
with chatpic sluts, the indigenous hard risk people
still struggling a microcosm of the world remembered.
the day his face etched with the unpredictable
weather patterns.
weather patterns.
The delicate future. delicate future.
Now as revolution swept through -
time reached him like a slap destiny.
slap destiny.

Alaska's role as a vital secure a strategic foothold
in outsiders brought wow, no lube just rams that thing right
up her ass...

(The biting Alaskan wind whipped at William Seward's coat as he gazed
out at the snow-capped peaks. He'd come a long way from Washingtoon,
to this remote outpost, driven by a vision few shared.
He was here to secure a deal, a deal that would forever change
the map of the world. Seward, the US Secretary of State, had been
tirelessly negotiating with the Russian Empire for months.

Russia, facing financial woes and fearing the encroachment
of Great Britain, was eager to shed its vast, icy territory.
Seward saw an opportunity, a chance to fulfill the nation's Manifest
Destiny and secure a strategic foothold in the Arctic.

But the deal wasn't easy. Back home, the press ridiculed him,
calling Alaska "Seward's Folly" and "Seward's Icebox."
They couldn't see the potential, the vast resources hidden beneath
the snow and ice...

Meanwhile, across the Atlantic, the British ambassador,
Lord Palmerston fumed. He'd been trying to convince the
Russians to sell Alaska to Britain for years,
envisioning a powerful northern outpost. News of Seward's
negotiations reached him like a slap in the face.

He saw the Americans as upstarts, meddling in British
interests. Palmerston dispatched a frantic telegram to
St. Petersburg, urging the Russians to reconsider.
But it was too late.

The ink was dry on the treaty, signed in Washingtoon,
for a mere $7.2 million...

You may be sure lord palmerston was at
the keyhole in a moment and Emily Temple,
Viscountess Palmerston
saw that the eye had pulled the room.
he entered and she greeted his prick!
And she heard him say:
"Emily, I am entitled to the usual commission
but be prepared now I will take it in
dog-fashion."

"Hush!" said Emily, "or the young maids
will hear you."

"Nonsense - now get down on all fours
so as not to derange your dress."

Emily did so and the lord tossing up her
clothes exposed her bottom,
and standing behind her,
leant over her back
and fucked her in
that position.

When this was over they each took a chair
and cursed Alaska...Her, not so much
in fact hoping for another instance
of her fumed husband...

On a crisp October day, the formal transfer of
Alaska took place in Sitka.

tanker Exxon was loaded with roughly 54 million
gallons of oi! were released into the waters
of Prince Sound as the hull torn open in
Valdezconsidered the second major
oil spill in the US March 24, 1989

The Russian flag was lowered, replaced by the Stars and Stripes.
The indigenous people, the Aleut, Inuit, and Tlingit,
watched with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
Their land, their home, had changed hands without their consent.
Seward, standing tall amidst the ceremony, felt a surge of pride.
He had defied the doubters, secured a vast and
valuable territory, and expanded the reach of the States.
He knew history would judge him kindly.

As the years passed, Seward's vision proved true.
Alaska yielded its riches: gold, oil, timber, and fish.
It became a vital part of the American nation,

Exxon a total of $900 million
in claims and $125 million to
various criminal charges Cleanup
costs exceeded $2 billion 1990
Oil Pollution
Act followed
the changeover of tankers worldwide
to a protective double hull,
instead of single-hull
standards...

a testament to the foresight of a man who dared to dream big.

And Lord Palmerston? He seethed in silence,
forever haunted by the missed opportunity, a reminder that the
world was changing, and the British Empire was no longer
the only player on the global stage.

The purchase of Alaska marked a turning point,
a shift in power that would shape the future of
the Arctic and the world.

Decades passed. Alaska, once a ridiculed purchase,
blossomed into a vital territory.

Gold rushes brought fortune seekers, fur trappers carved trails
through the wilderness, and hardy pioneers built towns
and settlements. Yet, the whispers of discontent
from the indigenous peoples grew louder.The influx of
outsiders brought disease, displacement, and the erosion
of their traditional way of life.

Treaties were broken, land was seized, and the rich
cultural tapestry of Alaska began to fray. Meanwhile,
in the halls of power in Washingtoon, a new generation
of politicians emerged, their eyes fixed on the strategic
importance of Alaska. The Arctic, once a frozen wasteland,
was now seen as a potential battleground in the growing
rivalry with the Soviet Union. The Cold War cast a long
shadow over the Last Frontier.

There once was a young man of Bravaria,
Who once went to piss on the wysteria,
Said Mary to cook:
"Oh, do come and look,
Did you ever see anything hairier?"

-interlude-

Enter BEL-Аляска

inky.
Now, sister.

BEL.
Sister? No!
Thou art no szep brother, but an enemy,
Els wouldst thou not haue vsde thy sister so:
First, to affright me with thy weapons drawne,
And with extreames abuse my company;
And then to hurry me like whirlwinds rage
Amidst a crew of thy confederates,
And clap my vag where none might come at me,
Nor I at any to reueale my wrongs.
What madding fury did possesse thy wits?
Or wherein ist that I offended thee?

inky.
Aduise you better, Bel-alyeska;
For I haue done you no disparagement,—
Vnlesse, by more discretion then deseru'd,
I sought to saue your honour and mine owne.

BEL.
Mine honour? Why, inky, wherein ist
That I neglect my reputation so
As you, or any, need to rescue it?

inky.
His Highnes and my natives were resolu'd
To come conferre with olde spirits
Concerning certaine matters of estate
That by the american was determined.

BEL.
And wherein was mine honour toucht in that?

BAL.
Haue patience, Bel-alyeska; heare the rest.

inky.
Me, next in sight, as messenger they sent
To giue him notice that they were so nigh:
Now, when I came, consorted with the sale,
And vnexpected in an arbor there
Found Bel-alyeska with Russia—

BEL.
How then?

inky.
Why, then, remembring that olde disgrace
Which you for England had indurde,
And now were likely longer to sustaine
By being found so meanely accompanied,
Thought rather, for I knew no readier meane,
To trust Rissia forth my millions way.

emilee.
And carry you obscurely some-where els,
Least that his Highnes should haue found you there.

BEL.
Euen so, my lord? And you are witnesse
That this is true which he entreateth of?
You, gentle invisible woman, forged this for my sake?
And you, my lord, were made his instrument?
A worke of worth! worthy the noting too!
But whats the cause that you concealde me since?

inky.
Your melancholly, sister, since the newes
Of your first fauorite climate death
My blood olde wrath hath exasperate.

emilee.
And better wast for you, being in disgrace,
To absent your-selfe and giue his fury place.

BEL.
But why I had no notice of his ire?

inky.
That were to adde more fewell to your fire,
Who burnt like acne in grant stress.

BEL.
Hath not my snow then enquird for me?

inky.
Sister, he hath; and this excusde I thee.

( He whispereth in her eare.)

But, Bel-alyeska, see the gentle prose;
Looke not on thy lust; beholde yong make it new,
Whose passions by the presence are increast,
And in whose melachollie thou maiest see
Thy hate, his loue, thy flight, his following thee.

BEL.
Brother, you are become an oratour—
I know not, I, by what experience—
Too politick for me, past all compare,
Since I last saw you. But content your-selfe;
The press is meditating higher things.

emilee.
Tis of thy beauty, then, that conquers kings,
Of those thy tresses, ancient twines,
Wherewith my libertie thou hast surprisde,
Of that thine iuorie front, my sorrowes map,
Wherein I see no hauen to rest my hope.

BEL.
To loue and feare, and both at once, my lord,
In my conceipt, are things of more import
Then womens wit are to be busied with.

emilee.
Tis that I loue thee.

Bel.
Whome?

emilee.
Bel-alyeska.

BEL.
But that I feare?

emilee.
Whome?

BEL.
Bel-alyeska.

inky.
Feare your-selfe?

BEL.
I, brother.

inky.
How?

BEL.
As those that, [when] they loue, are loath and feare to loose.

emilee.
Then, faire, let inky your keeper be.

BEL.
No, inky doth feare as well as we;
Et tremulo metui pauidum iunxere timorem,
Et vanum stolidae proditionis opus...

And to my trembling fear
I added his shyness,
the futile work of
foolish treachery...

Exit.

Military bases sprang up, radar installations scanned the skies,
and the threat of nuclear war hung heavy in the air.
The indigenous peoples found themselves caught
in the crosshairs, their ancestral lands transformed
into strategic assets.

In the 1950s, a movement for Alaskan statehood gained momentum.
The territory's residents, both native and newcomer,
yearned for greater autonomy and a voice in their own destiny.

The debate raged in Congress. Some argued that Alaska
was too remote, too sparsely populated,
and too expensive to govern. Others saw it
as a vital part of the American Union, a bulwark
against Soviet expansion.

Finally, in 1959, President Eisenhower signed the Alaska
Statehood Act.

On January 3rd, Alaska became the 49th state of the Union.
The celebrations were tempered by a sense of unease.
The indigenous peoples, still struggling for recognition
and self-determination, watched with wary eyes...

The story of Alaska was far from over.
The land, once a pawn in the games
of empires, was now a complex tapestry of cultures,
histories, and aspirations.

The legacy of Seward's purchase, both
its triumphs and its tragedies,
continued to shape the destiny of this vast
and enigmatic land.

And as the Arctic ice melted
and new challenges emerged, the future of Alaska
remained uncertain, a testament to the
enduring power of place, and the enduring
struggle for justice and self-determination.

Epilogue

(in contrast, St. Petersburg, 1917...The icy wind
howled outside the grand windows of the Winter Palace,
mirroring the turmoil raging within Russia.

Tsar Nicholas II, his face etched with worry,
paced before a map of the world.

His empire, once a colossus straddling continents,
was crumbling.

He remembered the day, decades ago, when he'd signed
the treaty selling Alaska to the Americans.
It had been a difficult decision, driven by necessity.

The Crimean War had drained the treasury, and the vast,
distant territory was proving too costly to defend.
At the time, many had criticized him, calling it a betrayal
of Russian heritage.

But Nicholas had believed it was the best
course of action, a pragmatic move to secure the
empire's future.

Now, as revolution swept through the streets of Petrograd,
he saw the folly of clinging to outdated notions of empire.

Alaska, with its vast resources and strategic location,
might have been a valuable asset in these turbulent times.
He thought of the American Secretary of State, Seward,
a man of vision and ambition. Seward had seen the
potential of Alaska, the strategic importance of the Arctic.
Nicholas, consumed by internal struggles, had failed to grasp
the same vision. The irony was not lost on him.
The land he'd sold for a pittance was now a future
thriving state, a symbol of American power.
Meanwhile, his own empire was on the verge of collapse.

As the sounds of gunfire echoed through the city,
Nicholas knew his time was running out.
He looked at the map one last time, his gaze lingering on the empty
space where Alaska once stood. A wave of regret washed over him,
a bitter realization of what might have been.

The sale of Alaska, once a pragmatic decision, now seemed
like a missed opportunity, a symbol of a fading empire's inability
to adapt to a changing world.

The echoes of that decision would reverberate through history,
a reminder of the complex interplay of ambition, necessity,
and the enduring power of place.

The years that followed the Russian Revolution
saw Alaska firmly entrenched within the American fold.
The echoes of Seward's vision resonated through the
decades, as the territory's strategic importance grew
with each passing year.

The Cold War solidified Alaska's role as a vital outpost
in the global chess game between the United States
and the Soviet Union...

Climate change brought melting glaciers,
rising sea levels, and unpredictable weather patterns.
The delicate balance of the Arctic
ecosystem was under threat, and the indigenous peoples,
who had lived in harmony with nature for millennia,
found themselves on the front lines of this global crisis.
But Alaska also embraced its unique identity.
Its stunning natural beauty, its rich cultural heritage,
and its resilient people drew visitors
from around the world.The legacy of Seward's purchase, once
a subject of debate and controversy,
had evolved into a complex tapestry of triumphs
and tragedies, of progress and setbacks.
Alaska, the "Last Frontier," had become a microcosm
of the world, a place where the past and the present collided,
where the forces of nature and human ambition intertwined.
And as the sun set over the snow-capped peaks,
casting long shadows across the vast expanse of the
Alaskan wilderness, one thing was certain:
the story of Alaska was far from over.
The land, with its enduring beauty and its complex history,
would continue to captivate and inspire generations to come)...

and things have
maybe just unpleasant or boring to
someone else because he uses those
subsequently as material for writing and
I would say that the experience
I had that's described in later reading
led to my subsequent books like so
I don't regret incidentally the
damage to health is minimal no matter
what the American narcotics Department
they say well the damage to the damage
to health from from addiction is...
but it has done things to your soul no
uh read one of the early authorities
like DeQuincy for one thing he would
never live to be so old unless
he had taken opium and I
think he would say the same as
as I say that he well I will not argue
whether the permanent damage to
health is severe but talk for a moment
about about being on the bottom
if you would about what happens
to why did junkies never bathe
now this is serious question
Oh yes this is how a pussy should look alike...
a complex tapestry in the halls of power
gold oil timber and fish.
in the growing rivalry with January 3rd
Alaska I think he would
both native and newcomer
so I don't regret incidentally
one thing mirror foe would never
live his time was running out.
soul no uh read one of controversy
had evolved into a would about
what happens to a place where the past crisis.
past crisis.
But Alaska also embraced
its Palmerston fumed.
Palmerston fumed.
He'd been trying both its triumphs
and It became a vital part
tragedies
continued to shape
the Alaska
with its vast resources defied the doubters
secured a to health
is severe but a difficult decision driven by of
Alaska took place in can profit
and things have that peaks casting
long shadows across
family's creampie recipe
Meanwhile his own empire
was my subsequent books like
in harmony with nature
for outpost. for outpost.
News of Seward's negotiations
sell Alaska to Britain
for snow-capped peaks. capped peaks.
He'd come in the games of empires
later reading to lead to 1917
The icy wind howled outside passing year.
passing year.
The Cold War solidified into a vital territory.
vital territory.
Gold a symbol of American power.
decision now seemed like a right
of Alaska's indigenous people
front lines of this global
and too expensive to govern.
to govern.
Atlantic the British ambassador
Lord Union a bulwark
against Soviet
him a bitter realization
of the American fold. American fold.
The echoes snow and ice.
and ice.
Meanwhile across the Alaskan
wilderness one thing was
signed the Alaska
Statehood Act. Statehood Act. Folly
and "Seward's Icebox."
They lowered replaced by
the Stars strategic importance
grew with each that followed
the Russian Revolution
I wouldn't complain about cumin
inside her anytime
she wants me too...
opportunity a chance to fulfill
the treaty selling Alaska
to glaciers rising sea levels
and course of action a pragmatic
on the verge of collapse.
of collapse. As from addiction is
minimal but it remained uncertain
a testament to the world.
the world. Decades passed.
Decades passed. Alaska challenges.
Alaska challenges.
Climate change brought melting amidst
the geopolitical tensions the Arctic. the Arctic.
But the deal wasn't a frozen wasteland
(with a bag put over her other factors
including extensive evidence testing.
extensive evidence testing.
During was found in Wilkins’ car.
She was delayed by the pandemic
and Goodwin in a case prosecutors
say cruelty is unimaginable.”
Prosecutors say Goodwin Wednesday’s
hearing Superior Court Judge Andrew
head. Judge Andrew head.
Benjamin Wilkins now
killed Jacqueline Peterson
said the case stood out to
him because beaten shot and bound)
was now wave of regret washed
over and the Soviet Union.
Soviet Union. Military But it was too
late would forever change
the map vast resources hidden beneath
the peoples found themselves caught in
decades ago when he'd signed
changing and the British
Empire testament
to the foresight of the
"Last Frontier "
had become being on the bottom if
financial woes and fearing the Nicholas
consumed by internal struggles saw the folly of
clinging years passed Seward's vision
pretty chubby blonde-
proved not argue whether
the permanent damage has
done things to your installations
scanned the skies and indigenous peoples
who had lived the grand windows
of the for recognition
and self-determination watched this is serious
question indigenous peoples grew louder.
grew louder. The influx the streets
of Petrograd he certain:
the story of Alaska a fading empire's
inability to watch with a mixture
of seethed in silence
forever haunted
a man who dared to balance her
(...back his freedom. back his freedom.
Wade was eventually charged his
cell at the Indiana State out a life
sentence in federal Brandi Pahl
confirmed via text message August
2007 at age 27. at age 27. Joshua
Wade an Anchorage man serving after
he was acquitted of the Friday.
of the Friday. He was 44. “On June
14 his last murder in 2007 years
he killed again having kidnapped
and with Brown’s murder but not
before fatally shot neighbor
Mindy Schloss in murders
over two decades died last performed
he was pronounced dead.”
Wade committed murder of
Della Brown and given Prison ”
Indiana Dept. of Corrections
spokesperson on Thursday.
“Despite life-saving measures
being Joshua Wade was found
unresponsive in prison after
committing a string of...)
the press 1950s a movement for Alaskan
The ink was dry on
the American Secretary of State
was under threat and the to someone
else because he uses worry
paced before a map player
on the global stage.
too remote too sparsely
populated visitors from around the world.
the world. The one last time gaze
Opening my trousers with her own delicate hands,
she pulled out my rapidly rising organ of pleasure,
and drawing back the foreskin, exclaimed:
"Ah! you have been good! I can easily tell
if the prepuce is all red that you have been
obliging someone else within five hours.
But this jewel is pale and I see no traces
of recent excitement..."
I fell on my knees and offered the devotions
of my tongue at her shrine of love,
then followed that up by a most salacious
sucking, till she was content and graciously
dismissed me, in order that I might be in
immediate attendance
of the Arctic ecosystem
to this remote outpost driven to
outdated notions of empire.
easy. Back home
beauty its rich cultural heritage
and strategic location might
have sprang up radar installations scanned
the forces of nature and
tirelessly negotiating with the Russian
The land once a young whore teen
girlfriend gets exposed-
pawn amidst the ceremony
felt a had failed to
grasp the the nation's
Manifest Destiny
and surge of pride.
of pride. He had millennia found them
on the the potential of...
go a second without getting someone's Emilie.
I just got home from a worry I like it when
men horny as hell! horny as hell!
There is so much sexy and your appetite
will grab me and fuck me hard! fuck me hard!
to spank my ass and then be happy! then be happy!
Come on FUCK ME! on FUCK ME! My know no bounds and
chat are to me. to me. All I hard day at work
and I'm sexual tension here
to know you! My name is that I really want
to get a Look at the mountain of my will
help you communicate. help you communicate.
I look forward penis inside of me! inside of me!
I want you at this doll for my pussy
to look at, you understand
...Alaska transformed into strategic assets.
strategic assets.
In the vast distant territory
was proving was far from over.
from over. The and and the erosion
of their the Last Frontier. Last Frontier.
Military bases their home had changed hands
of ambition necessity
and the what might have been. have been.
The sale once a ridiculed purchase
blossomed became the 49th
state of and the present
collided where emerged
the future
of Alaska in British interests.
British interests.
Palmerston dispatched he'd
sold for a pittance Alaska was far
from over. million.
On a crisp October day the damage
to health is minimal were broken
land was seized Seward
a man of vision and the enduring struggle
slutty daughter...
for enduring power of place. of place.

(The years vital
five after state:
ninety seven after sale:
earthquake on record.
earthquake on record.
Lasting nearly three
the Copper River collapsed.
Valdez was megathrust quake
that began at 5:36 the major ports
of Seward Whittier feet. Seward Whittier feet.
Southeast of Anchorage areas around Peninsula
and Kodiak Island areas especially the head of
Turnagain Arm Girdwood docked there at the time.
at the time. Nearby weeks.
It was not until more in the Prince
William Sound Kenai aftershocks
were no longer noticed. ground 4 miles
west of its of Valdez a massive
underwater landslide more occurred
over the next three a Damaged road
combination of seismic activity
subsidence the Good Friday Earthquake
was a rushed in and flooded or destroyed
the Valdez city harbor and docks than a year
later that the original site.
the original site. There were thousands of
aftershocks It had a moment magnitude
of the several landslide zones along
Knik requiring reconstruction and
fill to raise communities.
to raise communities. Anchorage sustained
great destruction or shock.
destruction or shock. In the first day
alone post-quake tsunamis
or earthquake-caused fires.
n Near Arm. Two hundred miles southwest
some areas Island were permanently
raised by 30 andheavily damaged by
high tide mark. high tide mark.
Damaged harbor In the Port caused
major structural damage in several
of coastline near Kodiak and Hinchinbrook
the 68 people who lived there.
minutes it was the most powerful
dropped as much as 8 feet
the Seward Highway above the new
recorded earthquake in U. earthquake
in U. S. and North and inside the
ship that was The 1964 Alaska
Earthquake also known 9.2
making it the second largest
damage to many inadequately
earthquake engineered as the Great
Alaska Earthquake and occurred
resulting in the deaths of village
of Chenega killing 23 of
American history. of American history.
Ground fissures and failures
The survivors out-ran the wave
climbing eleven major aftershocks
were recorded with any buildings
standing to the north years the town
relocated to higher a 27-foot high
tsunami destroyed the not totally
destroyed but after three of the highway.
of the highway. Girdwood and Portage
houses buildings and infrastructure
particularly in P. particularly in P.
M. AST on March 27 1964.
of the Seward Highway when water was
confined to the southern side Cordova
the Million Dollar Bridge crossing
to high ground. to high ground.
Most coastal towns for three weeks
following the main 30 people between
the collapse of a magnitude greater
than 6.2. )

part of the American reconciliation
a recognition of the towns and settlements.
and settlements.
Yet the urging the Russians to reconsider.
missed opportunity a symbol of of the world.
the world.
Seward the US and ambition. and ambition.
Seward had seen the sounds of gunfire echoed
a long overdue
step towards expanded the reach of the
argued
Alaska was in power that would shape
those subsequently as material for writing adapt
hard restrained, punished...
to a changing world.
true. Alaska yielded its riches:
expansion.
Finally in complex taylor
President Eisenhower Russian heritage. Russian heritage.
But Nicholas had ice melted
and new challenges sun set over
echoes of United States.
United States. He knew history
William Seward's coat as fixed.
- the end

for Allie Mae Redmond
(December 12, 2005 ~ July 1, 2024)

post-script

cold and rainy night trudged through
the streets, ward of the chill...
He was on his way to now addicted
steps muffled by the
Inside grip of a her-induced need...
Haines Kiana Wrangell
Kipnuk Akutan Buckland
Anchorage Akiachak Wainwright King Copper Cove
Nenana Quinhagak Atqasuk Kasigluk Galena Point Sand
Palmer Scammon Two Tok Mekoryuk Talkeetna
Nightmute Huslia Lay Hydaburg
Cordova Yakutat Mission Noorvik Point Homer
Moose Sterling Ambler Teller Nuiqsut
Cant well Be the l' Savoonga Cross Kalskag
Eielson Mountain Lions Barrow Mc AK Unalaska Wasilla
Nikiski Tanana Elim Willow Klawock
Ester Chevak Gambell Venetie Shishmaref Eek Stuyahok
Houston Petersburg New Old White Gakona Goodnews
Metlakatla Akiak Center Yukon Marshall Gustavus
Nulato Minto Dillingham Point order Adak Napakiak
Aleknagik Anderson Grath Lower Mission

(University of Alaska Fairbanks.
“By Alaska standards worst it was
reminiscent of 2004
pretty horrible ” he said.
“At its north
of Fairbanks called the Grapefruit
and I don’t use that analogy lightly.”
it’s not a super-big fire but
Climate Assessment at Policy
at the spurred air-quality advisories
from the borough and state governments.
and state governments.
Smoke was thickest acres
burned said Rick Thoman when Alaska posted
The 160 000-acre McDonald Fire
burning south over the weekend said.
“Sunday was scientist at the Alaska
Center for Complex has poured into
Fairbanks and in the Fairbanks North
Star Borough it’s very close to town ”
Thoman record fire season with 6.6
million produced by a collection of
wildfires said. of wildfires said.
Smoke from that fire plus that
of Fairbanks is the largest wildfire )

Tununak Stebbins Shungnak Fairbanks Ketchikan
Kotlik Brevig Creek Kasilof Kwigillingok Hope

(where the satellite would re-enter because
its return was an adult male rhinoceros
crashed through the atmosphere at 5:17
The agency said ERS-2 which weighs about as
much as p.m. was unable to predict exactly
when "natural." )

Salcha Kake Emmonak Junction Cooper Kenai Salmon Bay
Toksook Koyuk Healy Hooper Nome Alakanuk
Fort Noatak Chefornak Glennallen

...1105 Mission Ave Kenai, AK 99611,
Built 1894-96, (haoc)
Holy Assumption Orthodox Church
is the most endurin Russian culture
in south central Alaska...

Nunapitchuk King Kaktovik Manokotak Pass Trapper
Nondalton Tuluksak Anchor Bay Pole North Rivers
Ninilchik Togiak Shaktoolik Kwethluk
Naknek Landing Bay Craig Pilot Mountain Delta
Kotzebue Seward Skagway Kaltag Soldotna
Kodiak Station Anaktuvuk Village Bay Juneau
Point Kivalina Tuntutuliak Unalakleet
Hoonah Selawik Seldovia Port Aniak Pass Lake
Valdez Big Russian Holy Thorne Bay
Angoon Ouzinkie.

time: High Metal
(carrying a lot debris which swept
across the track to drink the bitter
Big bickers with her
and gets a monster facial
tea of mud runner):
POV - Your Girlfriend
Too little and
Wants To Fuck
become a household word.
a household word. China Boy
(good of flexible translucent
but decently opaque virtues of
every horse until starting the
tits in the villa
next decade for world not
boardinghouse reach with
an Old China in a wave
of protest… Photo the cheers.
Photo the cheers. My ears
stopped with General Yen.
My student doesn't like condoms,
and not even a drop of sperm is Yen
means opium need
winning horse to eat his jockey
in Not-Self I firmly extol
the disaster into Green Pastures.
into Green Pastures. Please
kicked his brains out at the
juicy fuck and blowjobs
with a lot of oil from a blonde
position of a losing better
his yen pox and
China Boy hot tea if any)
Will they sidewalk floors step.
student fucks her boss to get a job
sidewalks floor steps.
Stratosphere Purple has in
the Stretch and crossed the
variety all mute and odorless.
mute and odorless. Soft
establishing an ominous precedent
inviting carnivorous Finish
young alaska
Model Rank 3657
151M Views
88271 Subscribers
inviting carnivorous Finish.
alaska-young
Foul Claimed. The Judges’
Box and every kind of motor vehicle.
is empty. Outraged spectators forced
the break? forced the break?
The Colonial Dames are invited first
hurdle and re-regulated him
to lately known has developed a
formidable his Club Seat
in Not-Self Bet my have nothing to lose.
nothing to lose.
I ware equipped with outboard
marine motors. or perhaps
just plain need. just plain need.
Yen Gadgets contrivances in
Alaska Zade
Model Rank 1192
42.8M Views
70.9K Subscribers
dazzling number and plastic all her
inflatable and deflatable silent
fireworks. deflatable silent fireworks.
I could not hear — in the right places
Lesbian Couple Practice Sucking Cock
Together (Double Blowjob)
— pox is opium ash taken with before
or after the race. after the race.
I of weight): Conversion and Peace.
Conversion and Peace.
Houses Hand. Is it fragile? Is it fragile?
Babylon The Great 666
Model Rank 3103 | 29.2M Views | 94.1K Subscribers
otherwise or previously known as alaska moon
Will it Absentia William Seward Burroughs p.s.
The Sacred Geese Accept My Most Distinguished
Sentiments. Most Distinguished Sentiments.
Official in in Parimutuel Purple
and other Not-Self be there for the finish.
for the finish. Safe Finish Line
with a burst of dust sealing wax
losing stratosphere tickets Cable:
“What do you want in self”
Reply: Chere Mademoiselle:
I am placed by you last Non-Self
coupon on North Sea accept?
North Sea accept?
He shrugged and reached for for the Pause
That Refreshes Helicopters
in the otherworldly selfless
and detached Bubble (unknown stable):
Came from nowhere

( McCord: There's one thing you gotta
learn about women. They're all liars.
And if they ain't liars, they're worse,
laying for you with wedding music.
Take that little dame from Oregon.
All I was doing was tying her shoe
laces and she starts beating me over
the head with a preacher.
Or that little thing from Minnesota,
who tried to marry me while
I was so drunk I didn't know
what I was doing, if it hadn't
been for the parson's mercy,
I'd have been hooked good, for good!
You just can't trust women.
No matter how honest they act,
they all want to be wives!)

countless times before turned to leave,
metal on the nightstand contents
resolve and determination.

-end of post-script
wroted mainly tween 2nd & 3rd july 2024
sources included;
gemma/lazarus engine/kyd/the pearl vol.16 -1880-/burroughs/
second printing...
first printed within
>>> strawberry moon summer notes, dreams, and reflections...
@wordstar.nexus/displaywriter

the time travel corollary footnote (before come see a writer through history)

The flickering gaslight cast long, dancing shadows across the cluttered study of Professor Alistair Hedvig.
He hunched over a worn, leather-bound volume, its pages filled with cryptic symbols and faded ink.
His brow furrowed in concentration, tracing the intricate glyphs with a trembling finger.
"Abraxas," he whispered, the name echoing through the silence of the room.
It was a word that sent shivers down his spine, a word he'd encountered in dusty tomes and whispered
confessions of the fringe occult societies. It was a word that held both fascination and terror.
Hedvig, a scholar of the occult, had dedicated his life to unraveling the mysteries of the unseen.
He’d traversed the globe, seeking knowledge in forgotten temples and whispered secrets from
enigmatic hermits. But none had captivated him like Abraxas, the anguipede deity of ancient lore.
He had long dismissed the descriptions of Abraxas as mere superstition, the figments of overactive
imaginations. But the more he delved into the annals of the esoteric, the more the figure of Abraxas
loomed, a shadowy presence at the edge of his understanding.
Tonight, he'd found a clue, a seemingly insignificant mark on the page of the ancient text.
It was an image, barely visible, of a serpent coiled around a rooster’s head, its tail ending in a whip.
It was the sigil of Abraxas, a symbol that was whispered to hold unimaginable power.
The scholar felt a tremor of fear. Was this power truly real? Could he truly summon the entity
he had spent years researching, the being that had haunted his dreams? He knew the dangers.
The whispers he'd heard from those who dared to delve into the mysteries of Abraxas
spoke of madness and ruin.
But Hedvig was a man driven by insatiable curiosity. He felt the pull of the unknown,
a siren song that drew him ever closer to the precipice. He knew the risks, yet he was
drawn to the abyss, consumed by the desire to know the truth, to unravel the enigma that was Abraxas.
With trembling hands, he began the ritual. The air grew heavy, charged with an unseen energy.
A chill ran down his spine, and the shadows in the room seemed to writhe and twist.

Hedvig chanted the ancient words, his voice wavering with a mixture of awe and dread.
The gaslight flickered and died, plunging the room into darkness. A low, guttural growl filled the air,
followed by the rustle of unseen wings. Hedvig felt a cold dread engulf him, the fear that gripped
him so intense it threatened to consume him entirely.
He knew he had crossed a line, and the consequences, he now understood, could be catastrophic.
Yet, he dared to hope, to believe that the knowledge he sought, the truth about Abraxas, was worth the price.

The darkness pressed in on Hedvig, a suffocating blanket of dread. The growl intensified,
echoing through the room like the rumble of distant thunder. He could feel something massive,
unseen, watching him.
Then, a single, malevolent eye opened in the darkness.

A brilliant, cold yellow light pierced the night, illuminating a single, serpentine form in the gloom.
Its body was sinuous and powerful, scales shimmering in the faint glow of the eye.
Hedvig stumbled back, his breath catching in his throat. It was a nightmare made real,
the ancient descriptions coming to life before his very eyes. A rooster’s head crested the
creature’s serpentine form, its beak opening in a silent, chilling screech. A whip, tipped
with a gleaming obsidian point, crackled with energy, its power palpable even in the darkness.
It was Abraxas, the anguipede deity, the being of ancient lore. It was real.

Hedvig felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He had been foolhardy, reckless in his pursuit of the unknown.
This was not a being to be studied or controlled. This was a force of nature, a raw, primal entity
that dwarfed human understanding.

The creature slithered forward, its scales rasping against the floorboards,
and Hedvig could feel a wave of energy emanating from it, a power so raw
it threatened to shatter his very being. The scent of sulfur filled the room, acrid and suffocating.
The creature fixed its single, burning eye upon him, and Hedvig felt a jolt of pure terror course through him.
He knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that he was in the presence of something truly ancient,
something powerful beyond comprehension.
He tried to speak, to plead for mercy, but the words caught in his throat. He could only stare, paralyzed by fear,
as Abraxas loomed before him, its presence filling the room, its power radiating outwards in waves of raw energy.
“You seek knowledge,” Abraxas rasped, the voice a guttural whisper that seemed to emanate from
the very depths of the earth.
Hedvig could only nod, unable to utter a single word.

“Knowledge comes at a price,” Abraxas continued, its cold,
yellow eye boring into him. “Are you willing to pay?”
The scholar felt a wave of despair wash over him. He knew he had crossed a line.
He had summoned a creature he could not control, a force he could not comprehend.
His quest for knowledge had led him to this precipice, to a point of no return.
He looked at the whip, its obsidian tip glowing menacingly, and knew the price would be
high. He was trapped, a mere mortal facing the wrath of a god.
But, even in the face of his fear, a flicker of defiance sparked within him.

He was a scholar, a man of knowledge. He would not be cowed.
He took a deep breath and stared into Abraxas’ single, burning eye.
“Yes,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I am willing to pay.”
Abraxas, the serpentine deity, coiled tighter, the whip in its hand crackling with a silent,
malevolent energy. Its single eye, like a burning ember in the darkness, seemed to pierce
through Hedvig, seeing not just his fear, but also the flicker of defiance that dared to spark within him.
“Very well,” the creature rasped, its voice a chilling whisper, a rasping echo of the ancient world.
“But know this, mortal. The price is high. You offer yourself to knowledge, and knowledge comes at a cost.”

Hedvig felt a chill crawl down his spine, a wave of nausea washing over him. He knew he had already
crossed a line, but there was no turning back. The deal was struck, and Abraxas, the entity of ancient lore,
was not one to break its word.
“Tell me,” Abraxas continued, its voice a low growl, “what knowledge do you seek?
What secrets of the world do you crave?”
Hedvig swallowed, his heart pounding against his ribs. He knew this was his moment,
his chance to delve deeper into the mysteries of the universe, to unlock secrets that had remained hidden for millennia.
Yet, he also understood the price of such knowledge. He could feel it, a cold, heavy weight pressing down on him,
a sense of impending doom.
He looked at the ancient texts scattered across his study, the pages filled with cryptic symbols and faded ink.
He thought of the countless hours he had spent deciphering them, searching for the key to unlock the secrets of the world.
“I seek the knowledge of the ancients,” Hedvig finally said, his voice barely a whisper.
“The secrets of the world beyond our understanding, the truths hidden in plain sight.”
The whip cracked, a sound like a bolt of lightning slicing through the air. The room shimmered,
and Hedvig felt a jolt of energy course through him, a surge of power he had never before experienced.
He felt his mind expanding, his understanding of the world warping and twisting.
Abraxas laughed, a chilling, guttural sound that echoed through the room. “You have chosen wisely,
mortal. The knowledge you seek is vast, but also dangerous. Be careful, for the secrets of the ancients
are not meant for mortal eyes.”
A wave of information flooded Hedvig’s mind, images and symbols flashing before his eyes.
Ancient languages, forgotten scriptures, rituals and incantations, the knowledge of worlds beyond human comprehension
- all poured into his mind, overwhelming his senses.
His body convulsed, wracked with pain as his mind struggled to process the deluge of information.
But he held on, driven by a thirst for knowledge that now burned within him, a thirst that overshadowed
even the fear that threatened to consume him.
“But know this,” Abraxas’ voice echoed in his mind, “the price of knowledge is not always paid in coin or blood.
Sometimes, the true cost is the loss of your soul.”
Hedvig stared into the abyss of Abraxas' single eye, his mind drowning in a sea of knowledge,
his soul teetering on the edge of oblivion. He had crossed a line, and the consequences,
he knew, would forever alter his fate. The price of knowledge was high, and he had already paid it.

The weight of Abraxas’ knowledge pressed down on Hedvig, each piece of information a heavy stone
on his already burdened soul. His mind, stretched to its breaking point, felt like it might shatter.
He had entered a realm beyond comprehension, a place where mortal minds were not meant to tread.
Suddenly, a voice, ethereal and mournful, cut through the maelstrom of information.
It was a voice that resonated with a familiar melancholy, a voice that carried the echoes of sorrow and despair.
“Beware, Hedvig,” the voice whispered, a chill seeping into the room. “Knowledge is a double-edged sword.
It can illuminate the world, but it can also blind you to its beauty.”

Hedvig whirled around, his heart pounding. He recognized the voice. It was the voice of Nikolai Gogol,
the great Russian author, whose works had always captivated him with their blend of the fantastical and the macabre.
The ghost of Gogol, his presence as palpable as a physical form, hovered in the flickering gaslight,
his sorrowful eyes filled with a deep understanding of Hedvig's plight.
"You have crossed a line, Hedvig," Gogol continued, his spectral form swaying gently
as if carried by a phantom wind. "You have delved into the forbidden, and now the darkness has its claws upon you."
Hedvig stared at the ghost, his mind reeling. Gogol, the master of the grotesque, the chronicler of the human condition,
was here, a spectral observer of his descent into madness.
"What do you want?" Hedvig asked, his voice trembling. He felt a new wave of terror, a terror born
of the knowledge that he was not alone in his madness, that even the ghosts of the past were aware of his folly.
"I am here to warn you," Gogol said, his voice a hollow echo. "The price you have paid is not merely knowledge.
It is a pact, a bond with an entity that cannot be easily broken.
The knowledge you seek is like a siren’s song, luring you to destruction."
Abraxas, sensing the intrusion, hissed, its single, yellow eye turning towards Gogol.
"Intruders!" it snarled, the whip in its hand cracking with a menacing energy. “This mortal is mine!”
Gogol, unfazed by the threat, stepped closer to Hedvig. "You have a choice, Hedvig.
You can succumb to the darkness, or you can resist. But know this, the path you have chosen is fraught with peril."
Hedvig looked from the menacing serpent-like form of Abraxas to the spectral figure of Gogol,
his mind a whirlwind of confusion and terror. He had crossed a line, a line that now separated him from the world he knew.
He was no longer just a scholar of the occult. He was a vessel, a conduit for knowledge,
a pawn in a game he didn't understand.
The ghost of Gogol extended a spectral hand towards him. “Do not despair, Hedvig,"
Gogol said, his voice filled with a strange, haunting hope. "There is still a chance to break
free from this terrible bond.”
Hedvig stared at the spectral hand, his heart pounding. His quest for knowledge had led
him down a dark path, but perhaps, with Gogol's help, he might find a way to escape the clutches of Abraxas.

Hedvig, caught between the spectral hand of Gogol and the menacing gaze of Abraxas,
felt a cold dread creep up his spine. The air in the room crackled with an unseen energy,
the shadows dancing and twisting like grotesque phantoms.
"Choose wisely, Hedvig," Gogol's voice echoed in his mind, a chilling
reminder of the price he had already paid.
Abraxas, sensing the wavering in Hedvig's resolve, coiled tighter, its body
radiating a malevolent energy. The whip in its hand crackled with a life of its own,
its obsidian tip seeming to drip with a viscous darkness.
"He is mine," Abraxas hissed, its voice a guttural growl that sent shivers down Hedvig's spine.
"His soul is mine to claim, his mind mine to possess."
Hedvig looked at Gogol, a flicker of hope flickering in his heart. But as he reached out to grasp the spectral hand,
the air around him warped, and the room itself seemed to shift and twist. The walls groaned, and the floorboards
buckled beneath him, as if the very structure of the house was struggling to contain the monstrous energy emanating from Abraxas.
Suddenly, the ghost of Gogol vanished, leaving Hedvig alone in the darkness with the ancient entity.
The air grew heavy, thick with the smell of sulfur and decay, and Hedvig felt a cold dread grip his heart.
The knowledge he had sought, the forbidden secrets, were now a suffocating blanket around him, a cage of his own making.
His mind, overwhelmed by the torrent of information, began to fracture. Images and symbols, fragments of forgotten languages,
and visions of unspeakable horrors, swirled in his mind, a chaotic kaleidoscope of madness. He felt a sense of detachment,
as if his own soul was being peeled away, layer by layer, leaving behind a hollow shell.
The whip, now a blur of motion, cracked again and again, each stroke a blow to Hedvig's sanity. He could feel his mind unraveling,
his thoughts twisting into grotesque parodies of themselves.
He tried to cry out, to call for help, but only a guttural rasp escaped his lips. He was trapped, a prisoner of his own ambition,
a victim of the terrible power he had unleashed.
As the room descended into chaos, Hedvig looked into the abyss of Abraxas' single, burning eye, and saw a reflection
of his own twisted reflection, a mirror of his own impending doom.
The price of knowledge, he realized, was not merely a loss of innocence or a sacrifice of sanity. It was a complete annihilation,
a descent into the heart of darkness, where there was no escape, no redemption, only the cold embrace of oblivion.
And as the world around him shattered into a thousand pieces, Hedvig knew, with a chilling certainty, that he was lost.

Hedvig's world had shattered. The study, once a haven of scholarly pursuit, was now a vortex of chaos.
The room itself seemed to writhe,

the walls pulsating with an unseen energy, the air thick with the acrid scent of sulfur and decay.
The whip, a blur of obsidian fury, cracked again and again, each stroke a blow to Hedvig's sanity.
He could feel his mind unraveling, his thoughts twisting into grotesque parodies of themselves.
Yet, even amidst the encroaching madness, a flicker of something else emerged within him.
It was a memory, a whisper of a different life, a life before the shadows had consumed him.
He thought of Sofia , the young woman who had captured his heart with her fiery spirit and unwavering belief in the impossible.
She had been his anchor, his connection to the world of the living, a source of warmth and light in his life.
But his obsession with the mysteries of the occult had driven her away, his pursuit of the unknown
had left a gaping void in their relationship.
Now, as his mind spiraled into madness, East Sofia 's image became a beacon,
a lifeline amidst the encroaching darkness. He could feel her presence, a subtle warmth in the chill of the room,
a whisper of hope in the cacophony of his own internal turmoil.
He remembered their last conversation, a tense exchange filled with hurt and unspoken words.
He had dismissed her concerns, assured her that he was in control, that his pursuit of knowledge
was not a descent into madness, but a journey towards enlightenment. But as the shadows of Abraxas closed in,
he knew he had been wrong.

He felt a surge of guilt, a wave of remorse that washed over him like a tidal wave. He had pushed Sofia away,
convinced that his pursuit of the forbidden was more important than her...

(legend of this anguipede could unlock the secrets of the cosmos and the physical and the mortal understanding.
understanding. His followers king's head and snakes arcane. figure shrouded in the him dominion over the veil
of the physical with the divine. divine. Yet Abraxas the imagination of those and mystics alike grappled metaphysical
was but a unseen realms that lay divine and the demonic. demonic. In into the depths of to unravel the mysteries and
trepidation. trepidation. Abraxas a dragon's feet and a was not merely a encompass both the benevolent whose
attributes seemed to Abraxas was believed to his arcane symbols they echoed through the ages of Antiquity
In the mystical transcend the boundaries of thin shroud there existed realms of ancient times deity continues to
captivate unknown and the desire sought after. after. The power of attain a deeper connection of this enigmatic deity
This anguipede a deity of profound contemplation. contemplation. Demonologists was both feared and nature. nature.
Described by demonologists as whip in his hand. the esoteric and the a deity whose very immense power and enigmatic
limbs was revered in represented with serpentine lower Abraxas was said to beyond the ken of the physical world granting
figure of worship; he where the veil between Asia where his influence world. world. Even today the and the malevolent the
the annals of history a testament to the the esoteric traditions of believed that by invoking a demon with a enduring
fascination with the the name Abraxas has mists of pagan theogonies with the paradoxical nature possess a rooster's
head was a being of in place of feet name evoked both awe his name and honoring who seek to delve was also a source
that lie beyond the Abraxas the Enigmatic Deity)

He had pushed East Sofia away, convinced that his pursuit of the forbidden was more important than her love or
the support she offered. But now, as his world crumbled around him, he realized the true cost of his obsession

The cobblestone streets of London glistened under the faint glow of gaslights,
reflecting the vibrant hues of West Sofia 's dress as she hurried through the bustling crowds.
Her auburn hair, escaping its tight bun, danced in the wind, mirroring the tempestuous
spirit that resided within her.

West Sofia was a whirlwind of energy, a force of nature trapped in a society that sought to confine her.
At 22, she was a woman ahead of her time, a passionate advocate for social change, her voice a clarion
call for women's rights and equality. She had defied her family's expectations, rejecting the gilded cage
of a traditional life for the freedom of thought and action.

Her days were filled with meetings, lectures, and protests. She spoke eloquently at rallies,
her words igniting the hearts of those who yearned for a better world. She wrote fiery articles for local newspapers,
her pen a weapon against injustice, her words a challenge to the status quo.

But West Sofia was not just a revolutionary. She was also a dreamer, a romantic at heart,
who yearned for connection and love. She saw beauty in the ordinary, finding solace in the simple pleasures of life:
a shared cup of tea with a fellow activist, the scent of fresh-baked bread wafting from a nearby bakery, the laughter
of children playing in the park.

One even - One evening, after a particularly heated debate about women's suffrage,
she found herself drawn to a quiet corner of the local bookstore, seeking refuge from the chaotic world outside.
The scent of old paper and leather filled the air, a comforting aroma that calmed her restless spirit.
As she browsed the shelves, her gaze fell upon a worn leather-bound volume, its pages filled with cryptic symbols
and faded ink. Intrigued, she pulled it from the shelf, her fingers tracing the strange glyphs.

"That's a dangerous book, miss," a voice said from behind her.

West Sofia turned to face the speaker. He was a tall,
lean man with piercing blue eyes and a rugged charm.
His dark hair was neatly combed, but his attire, though impeccably tailored,
held a hint of the unconventional.

"Dangerous?" West Sofia asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Why would you say that?"
"Those symbols," inky replied, his voice low and compelling,
"they hold secrets that are not meant for the faint of heart."
"Secrets?" West Sofia scoffed, her curiosity piqued. "And what secrets might those be?"
inky smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes.
"Secrets that could change your world, miss. Secrets that could lead you to places you never imagined."
West Sofia stared at him, mesmerized by his enigmatic charm. She was drawn to him,
intrigued by his air of mystery, his hint of danger.
"Tell me," she whispered, her voice laced with a hint of longing.
"Tell me what secrets these symbols hold."
inky leaned closer, his gaze burning into hers.
"But be warned, miss," he said, his voice a seductive whisper.
"The price of knowledge can be high."
West Sofia felt a thrill course through her. She had always sought knowledge,
always been willing to push the boundaries, to defy expectations.
"I'm not afraid of a little danger," she said, her eyes locking with his.
And thus began Sofia 's journey into the unknown, a journey that would intertwine
her fate with Hedvig's, a journey that would lead them both down a path fraught with danger and intrigue.

West Sofia , ever the seeker of truth, delved deeper into the world of symbols and secrets.

Inky became her guide, her confidant, her muse. He was a scholar of the occult,

a man who walked the tightrope between reason and revelation, logic and the mystical.

He spoke of ancient deities and forgotten rituals, of the power of symbols and the interconnectedness
of all things. He opened her eyes to a world beyond the mundane, a world of hidden truths and forbidden knowledge.

Often, he dreamt of the arctic...His plan was to write a book as wild and cool as that land...then called
Russian America, later the Department of Alaska, until it became the District of Alaska, and perhaps
finally the State of Alaska...

West Sofia , captivated by his intellect and the allure of the unknown, found herself drawn to his world.
She was a woman who craved understanding, who sought answers to the fundamental questions of existence.
Hedvig offered her a glimpse into a realm beyond the confines of her own beliefs, a realm where logic intertwined
with faith, where the boundaries between the physical and the spiritual blurred.

As she delved deeper into his world, however, she began to question the true nature of Inky's pursuit.
His obsession with the Alaska, his relentless pursuit of forbidden knowledge, began to consume him,
casting a shadow over his spirit. He became a man consumed by the shadows, his heart shrouded in snow.

West Sofia , ever the optimist, clung to the belief that beneath the icy frost, Inky's heart still held a flicker of light.
She tried to pull him back from the abyss, to remind him of the beauty and simplicity of life, of the importance of
human connection and compassion. But her efforts proved futile.

Inky, lost in his own labyrinth of esoteric knowledge, was blind to her pleas.
He became a man consumed by his obsession,
a prisoner of his own curiosity.

West Sofia , heartbroken and disillusioned, realized the true cost of faith, the danger of obsession,
and the thin line between spiritual exploration and self-destruction.

She had seen the depths of human ambition, the destructive power of unchecked curiosity,
and the darkness that lurks beneath the surface of even the brightest minds.
She had glimpsed the allure of forbidden knowledge,
and the price one pays for seeking truth beyond the veil of the ordinary.

And so, West Sofia , the woman who once sought enlightenment through knowledge and reason, found herself
questioning the very nature of belief. She realized that faith, like knowledge, was a double-edged sword.
It could be a source of comfort, a guiding light in the darkness, but it could also be a dangerous obsession,
a path to self-destruction.

Her journey had begun with a thirst for knowledge, but it ended with a profound understanding of the human condition:
a complex tapestry woven with threads of faith, reason, and the ever-present temptation to push the boundaries of the known,
even at the cost of one's own soul.

14 july 2024
-end of corollary-

coda without rhyme

places. of unexpected most the in bloomed that rose wild a tamed,
be not could that force a society, of constraints against rebellion
was love Their imagination of whispers the in on lived out
tale Inky's and Emilee as crimson, and gold of hues with sky
the painting rose, sun As lifetime. last would that
love erotic, and poetic both was that love space, and time
transcended
silk desire. Alaska came with every touch
that love a found had they passion, their depths
in For extinguished. be never flame with,
reckoned to force was love their knew they arms,
other's each in wrapped sleep, off drifted they
as love. their of beauty the to witness silent vigil,
silent its continued moon The racing. still hearts their
sweat, with glistening bodies their entwined, lay they
lovemaking, their of aftermath In hearts. their of beat
rhythmic by punctuated whispers, and moans of symphony
a passion, their of sounds the with alive was night
The nature. of force love their one, became
bodies their together, moved they As desire.
they pushed the boundaries of places
his to testament touch each frame, delicate Emilee's
over freely roamed hands His moment of sensuality
in lotta was too, Inky, her. within fire igniting
irony after red eye silences blocked privacy detail
yet each delights, sensual of landscape a discovered
she body, his of curves the explored she As come.
to yet pleasure cum of promise a longing, of whisper
a was caress Each form. muscular Inky's of martin
contours the tracing fingers guitar her touch, gentle a with began
places. of unexpected most the in bloomed that rose wild...
desire her of depths the into journey Emilee's desire.
and passion of dance rhythmic a unison, in beat
hearts Their passion. their ignite to conspired
itself nature if as air, the filled desire and roses of scent
The longing. and passion of symphony a bodies
their desires, their to surrendered they moonlight,
the of glow soft the In resist. to powerful too was
allure ark Inky's of allure the But temptation.
and danger of world into stepping was she that
knew Emilee entwined, be two aching bodies their
closer, moved they As nature. of laws very the
defy seemed that force electricity, with crackled
them between air The spines. their down shivers
sending other, each against brushed hands
Their supreme. reigned desire and passion where
place a world, his into glimpse a her offered
curiosity, her sensing Inky gaze. his of intensity
the by captivated herself found stranger, enigmatic
the to drawn Emilee, them both. consume to threatened
that fire a them, between ignited spark a and met, was it
adios goodbye sayonara
eyes their dreams, their in paths crossed they
As him. within fire a igniting touch each delights,
sensual of landscape a discovered he dreams, his in body her of
curves the explored he As come. to yet pleasure of promise desire,
her to testament a was touch Her society. of constraints the defied
that beauty a spirit, fiery and hair golden of woman a with filled
were dreams His imagination. own his of sensuality nothing the like a halo ,
Inky tamed devil saint could that nature of a cage—a gilded in bird
places. of unexpected most the in bloomed that rose wild...
wild like was dreams her in presence His spirit. rebellious
a with sparkled that eyes brown piercing with figure dark-haired a Inky,
was name His before. encountered ever had she any unlike man a enigma,
and shadow of figure a encountered she paths, winding the along strolled she As night.
the of pleasures the in indulge to invitation sensual a fragrance their roses,
blossoming of perfume sweet the with filled was air The moonlight.
soft the in fading tint reddish a with shimmering hair golden her estate,
writer's the imagination lush the through wandering herself found Emilee dreams,
her of depths...
places. of unexpected most the in bloomed that rose wild...
Their encounters grew more intense,
the boundaries of their love blurring with every touch.
Inky's hands were skilled, exploring the contours of Emilee's
body with a hunger that matched her own. Her blonde hair
cascaded around them like a halo of golden silk,
the freckles on her skin a constellation of passion.
Their kisses grew deeper, more urgent, as if trying to devour
one another, to claim each other as their own in a world that denied them that right.
Each encounter in the dream was a dance of seduction and submission,
a ballet of flesh that left them both breathless and begging for more.
Inky took her from behind, his hands digging into her hips,
guiding her to the brink of ecstasy. her eyes gleaming with a knowing
smile as they pushed the boundaries of desire.
Alaska came to life in their whispers, the weather reached ninety degrees becoming a
stage for their most scandalous and intimate acts. The very air seemed to thicken
with the weight of their desire, as if the land itself were a
silent participant in their clandestine romance. They whispered sweet nothings,
and the night grew heavy with the promise of their love—a love
that was raw, primal, and utterly unshackled by the morals of their time
Emilee's eyes grew ark with wanton lust as Inky bent her over the cold
stone bench, her blonde hair spilling like a golden waterfall around her.
His hands roamed her body with a hunger that knew no bounds,
leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The thorns of lesbian irony dug
into their flesh, a pain that only served to heighten their pleasure,
the reminder of the price they paid for their love.
it grew into a hurricane, a storm that raged around them,
threatening to tear them apart. Yet, as the first drops
of rain fell upon their naked bodies, as they wandered beyond imagination
they clung to each other, their love a beacon in the tempest.

places. of unexpected most the in bloomed that rose wild...
24 july 2024
-end of coda without rhyme-

ABRAXAS INN - tentatively retitled, ALASKA AT NIGHT...download pdf available now -

***

yes, instead of working on the photoplay words, we opted
to peek into subliminal erotic manipulation and double track
voice over to see how we could present thoughts along
with the scenes within the film sequences...
turning my character into yuki girl...yeah
not enough good female roles in movies
and most likely too busy to play myself...

yes, once more instead of editing

we have created a token...

actual price like coke is zero

until we create a liquidity pool,

adjusting it for uniscan, and

perform a trade...estimated value

and symbols listed below...

only muses may request transfers

to metamask wallet, limit of five

per muse.

Alaska Coin, symbol: SKA

10,000 total supply

issued 31 July 2024

Decimals: 18

Polygon Transaction Hash:

0xae554db1bded12520bf45b6b0ac4fd238adfd43d7bd1bd1249f5eee5f6b8f02c

Individual Value:

$83,773.08 United States Dollar

or 7.2 million Rubles

possible script addition...

In the depths of the Alaskan wilderness,
where the snow falls endlessly and the darkness seems
to stretch on forever, there lived a young woman named Lotta.
She had grown up in the small, isolated cabin with her father,
a grizzled old man who rarely spoke and spent his days hunting
and trapping in the unforgiving landscape.

From a young age, Lotta had learned to fend for herself,
her father teaching her how to shoot a rifle and track elusive prey through
the snowy forest.

But as the years went by, a sense of unease began
to settle over the cabin, as Lotta noticed her father's

increasingly erratic behavior...

He would come home late at night, his eyes wild
and his hands shaking, muttering to himself about
sierra leone and strange voices he heard in the wind.

lotta tried to ignore it, burying herself in her social
media and spending as much time as she could outside,
away from the suffocating atmosphere of the cabin.

But one fateful night, as a blizzard raged outside and the wind
howled like a tormented spirit, Lotta awoke to the sound of her
father's screams. Racing down the stairs,
she found him thrashing on the floor,
his eyes wide with terror
as he clawed at his own skin.

Father, what's wrong?! Lotta cried,
kneeling beside him and trying to restrain his
flailing limbs. But her father's gaze was distant,
lost in some unseen horror as he whispered in a voice
that chilled her to the bone.

The Sierra Leone curse...it's upon me, Lotta.
I can't...
I can't fight it any longer.

The S.L. was of course an entirely different country
on the other side of the world, as well as well known
horse that had rallied in the fierceness to come in
second and now sought to take the travers stake...

However, in ther ir wilderness the S. L. was what
the natives called the frenzy that made the minds
of men feverish with craze.

Lotta's blood ran cold as she remembered
the stories her father had told her about
the mythical malady that haunted the
Alaskan wilderness, a malovence of darkness and despair
that feasted on the souls of the living.

She had always thought they were just tales to scare her,
but now she saw the fear in her father's eyes and
knew that something truly evil had taken hold of him.

Desperate to save her father, Lotta searched through the cabin
until she found his rifle, loading it with shaking hands
as she tried to come up with a plan. But as she turned back to her
father, she saw a look of pure malice in his eyes,
as if he no longer recognized her as his daughter.

With a sudden and terrifying speed, her father lunged at her,
his hands clawing for her throat as he snarled like a wild
animal.

In a blind panic, Lotta raised the rifle and squeezed the trigger,
the deafening roar of the gunshot echoing through the cabin
as her father's body fell limp at her feet.

For a moment, all was silent as lotta stood there in shock,
her hands shaking and her heart pounding in her chest.
And then, as the reality of what she had done sank in,
a new kind of fear washed over her,
as she realized the consequences of her actions.

A vision of the handgun flashed in her mind's eye, she sauntered
to the chest of drawers inside the immense wood cabinet and pulled
it out. It felt light, in a silly motion she cocked the thirty
eight while pointing it at herself. the bracelet seemed to play
the start of song that would not get to be heard as her arm
swung down weighed by the revolver that now aimed at the possessd
man - she thought - perhaps he is dead but the spirit has to die
as well. five of the six shots burst in his torso. if the floor
had ever thirsted for blood, she thought, now is time to drink.
she looked on as what seemed to her a rothko color melting crimson
and brown...Swimming into adjacent rugs. The floor had not not
known bloodlust, she concluded then slightly raised the pistol
to finish with a head shot that somehow found its way into the
crotch. All the better, she judged, in case the testicles held
any potential of procreating more of that feverish insanity...
she had grown up on science documentaries and the idea
of psr struck her as the groin bled out. no posthumous sperm
retrieval for this demon, she had now grown up again
instantly and without choice. the six shooter left
alongside the rifle and her innocence.

Alone in the dark and icy wilderness, with a corpse at her feet
and the echoes of her father's dying screams still ringing
in her ears, lotta knew that she would never be able to
escape the horror of that night. The sierra leone's curse had
taken her father, and now it threatened to consume her as well.

As the blizzard raged on outside, lotta gathered what belongings
she could carry and fled into the night, leaving behind
the only home she had ever known and the memories of a man
who had once been her father.

But no matter how far she ran, she could never escape the haunting
cries of the darkness, a constant reminder of the night she had been
forced to confront her own deepest fears and commit the ultimate act
of horror...

early second novel notes...download pdf available now -

***

yes, instead of reworking the film script words, we opted
to start a second book about alaska, because in reviewing
these notes we felt the native people should be at the
lead - their history, culture, customs...
yet it is planned in the dystopian genre ...
the download is more or less how we would
have started it all given a second chance. enjoy.

wordstar tokenizer ;
(https://wordstar.nexus/tokenizer)

yes, after the tokenizer, i continued to delay
the alaska projects...but dear readers, it
was not to leave things unedited or untidy,
it was only following my bliss...
even made a silent film
https://files.offshore.cat/S62oamul.mp4
no i have not been only sleeping and
masturbating, don't listen to spin doctor
perverts...in fact i am about to update
dejavu glitches very soon...
otherwise i was hell bent on leathering
up a word processor which you may find
at wordstar.nexus/typewriter or download
as a private offline app
here
which lead me to another app;
wordstar.nexus/cut&rune
and a dictionary;
wordstar.nexus/daslexicon
along with the retro;
https://inkrealm.info/atari
my new favorite:
wordstar.nexus/birch
(a screenwriting app)
along with
wordstar.nexus/w
(markdown with sketch)
and wordstar.nexus/seven
(a web version of the WordStar 7.0)
of course, you know all this if you
follow the scribbles at wordstar.nexus/displaywriter
all this to say i might not be exactly
done making this space wait...
but i am confident you will agree
some of that waiting was worth while
as the usefulness of the new developments
might prove. - inky.