The Inner Maze - THIRTEEN
May 28, 2009. Frank wrote this as an experiment using Aurora Suite 2005, a word-prediction software program. For every letter that Frank would type for each new word, Aurora proposed to him nine possible word choices. For The Inner Maze, Frank ALWAYS selected a word from Aurora’s first nine choices. In this way, he followed Aurora, as Aurora followed him, through The Inner Maze!
THIRTEEN
Ah, fresh meat for everybody. Are you on the rag? Can I ask to see you nude? Or is there the red streaks? Then just topless if you care about being messy. I actually enjoy messy, seeing you in exactly equal in general now gaining upon examining everything in between legs wide open, taking refuge in between legs thrust out from the limited Biblical knowledge that if there is another space here for the creative joy of exciting novelties. Why don’t people who thought I was spinning around talk like this, talk as directly like this without being thunderstricken? I actually enjoyed looking deep within intimacy, playing, trying again before they could come into understanding lively sensations into her or you nude sliding on whims. If you care about being human, figure out how boring being so safe is. Below I will continue pandering to risk taker and freedom in exactly with you and at various depths of immediate wooing and passion. Madame, had you drugged last prayer to see what day of the brown blood-stains were absorbed in my skin, penetrating into a private satisfaction of thinking telepathic gem? A couple of terrible apprehensions of exciting novelties to risk yourself, wipe it totally unconscious, unexpected opportunities united by taboo and passion of revolt and her asshole and her partner Steve. We have been working with cycles of words and images flowing green according to the non-linear paths within the inner maze furrowing towards me and images imagine all goes back to Paris entrusted with cycles of exciting happenings, hoping that the motor neurons cycles of folly won’t dead end, but wisdom spirals downwards and upwards and inwards and outwards in my carnival of brutality and probable failure and being only able to procure so absorbent of words, you could not get rid of my Body of Christ, my body and soul longing for dangerous sewage in Montana with an erasable ink.
People can subvert those rules. We shall test it! Totally! But I am puzzled by taboo and being only able to procure food money when people with concerns about my luck and whatever between my eyes and being usually available in that way. God is a pizza of terrible apprehensions of immediate wooing of revolt. It was seeing you again distinctly visible however that comes across the street.
Am I boring being so safe? Am I boring you yet into bed? Not deaden boring, I hope you are boring into a trance, quivering flesh of pleasure, hot body inter-independent living web with a lot of trap doors, hidden vices passages that are beyond everything—most dangerous sects and now carpeted with crimson crape bestrewn with huge silver moons—thin crescent and full amazing shit covers entire world of blossoming of pleasure of possessing and now narrowly watched, attentively, certainly head on crashes pull me mad. Are you coming to the contact with the rapture of respect for my folly? The rapture of all sorts of extraordinary dimensions bearing upon examining everything, everybody else, including being dirty. Fun life, let me dig down into this unexplored galaxy of pleasure. Not deaden and full of uneasiness increased with cycles of possessing and full of hallucinations bereft of you. If you want to come down on madame Alboni and get extremely disturbing and legally questionable, you yet maybe are Beyond dying. Always asking when I will provide us with fixed lips parted and get tipsy and get into his pockets and conversed in groups of extraordinary supernatural modality of relationship dynamics upon my credulity and bob up with people who thought I was successful and bob up on that weekend.
Riding the rail is harder for guys than girls with their slits, slots, pussies! Sliding down on the fire station pole is rough on the nut sacks! Same is true with the stripper pole brass Bright. Hold yourself away from the pole or your sack will be pulled up and down bloody mucous buildup poor balls! But naked pussy can take the pole inside purple velvet cushion lips and sliding warm juicy sweaty rubbing aroused up and down and around the pole inside pleasure. The same with horse back riding! Balls crushing, your whole pitiful weight bouncing on your balls, galloping banging crushing hours upon hours of rubbing raw peanut butter! But clit bouncing on leather or on hairy warm live horse flesh, pleasure building each hoofbeat. The same with motorbike or tricycle. Macho is very painful! That is pretty much the different between the genders! And clit bouncing up and down on the saddle strapped tightly round the body of the beast create unlimited series of impressive orgasms on the long ride with horse power increased under ordinary conditions, favourable pressure expectations to live up and down on the saddle! Some weaker sex! I hope you will play in my skin chestnut-brown rubbing against all kinds of ridiculous rules like genders. We all are by-sexual progressive untreatable terminal disorder of impressive series of softly-incisive comments upon hours of rubbing aroused, smiled superbly with people who wanted me to dance on the nut sacks in charge of explosive animalism, appearing through green woods surmounted by taboo and being only able to procure real feeling for our private satisfaction of seeing sexy girls with their slits wide open. Yes, I am by-sexual skirts chaise with people who thought that was a sin! I am by-sexual of seeing sexy bodies melting away like brown sugar before your eyes. You know if you want to come and pick up what sort of laying-ground and being usually available in that way! God, enough of this! Gay and straight are just social theory of dueling and being only able to be the goals of social schizophrenic conditioning limiting who you can love, who you are attracted by. Nobody is willing to say this! However look at ancient Greeks and Romans! Many had their spouses to pass their existence seeds on and to insure their property lines would continue pandering to whichever issues of control over the country. But they had their male students, slaves, whatever for dinner of passionate zest and energy of action and lively sensations. Their wives also had their own private slaves of both sexes and girlfriends for fingering, licking kiss dear love ya in pleasure hot bed of orgies explore over oils of passionate intensity of expression. And don’t you get me started with cult whores!
Gay/straight is social schizophrenic conditioning limiting who you are attracted by, who you can love, who you can imagine staying with. Really it is like thinking you are attracted by pussies with red sea hair trim and you based your whole pitiful little crutch ting-a-ling tingling life on tiptoe for fear of betraying your preference! When it is all wide open in an infinite continuous stream widens the whole dinner of passionate virtually every piece of pounding of expression of unaccountable gestures for long excursions outside of the two glassy surfaces of grey!
Fuck it! This is the end of this chapter!
from the book, Frankly Speaking: A Collection of Essays, Writings & Rants by Frank Moore, published by Inter-Relations in 2014.