consistent research practice

Hatton Central Hospital (Anal flow, digestion, incarceration, etc.)

Soft shoes stop me from sinking into the ground hard , heavy shoes stop me sinking into the soft Loamy hillock, lanced when waterlogged everything rots and dies keels over eventually everything is linked under hatton park central estate hatton estate central park under highstreet linked to hatton farm panning for gold or at least pretending to i found nothing helter skelter overpriced lolly next to sprawling antique shop barn, everything has to look like a barn where i meet my alumni always some family home looking like a barn what’s not clicking we are going to split the county in half, into barns and non barns whats not clicking about the interests of barns or not barns or traps for foxes or people same thing really sepsis stemming from the bones, easily managed very very easy and satisfying so i am told over and over and over heavy shoes, rubber boots, rubberneck, watching the small family farm burn and keel over, and i am happy to see it and them go down `if I am (i will take you down with me so help me!) so help me godless space and ageless county landscape and what looks like a shady facility is anything but, blown to smithereens and sent to the us to be gobbled down consumed like our ageless spaces and buildings fragments the frags are plastic as time as wax as an endless loopmaid who cannot ever ever ever fill her tub and complete her tasks perpetual work and perpetual work and labour toil forever in a dress made of hydrophobic material that i can morph into so easily and dash into the fire so it is no more and so susceptible to every form of sexual violence like i am projected to be and i project and i smash my tooth out and my exposed body is across the park but only in imagined space and only in my imagination that is now yours by virtue of it spreading i am waxen susceptible to it and everyone can tell to take it as seriously as i do and as you must do also and i am in the spaces in manymany guises foreign to myself and my myriad doubles’re variously arranged in the most compromising positions as such i am the pinnacle of abstinence performance call me wooden and prudish and let me go! Rubber boots to sink even lower into the bottom of the river suboptimal evolutionary position and so evident old psychiatry next to fake gag panning for gold when will it be rid? An image like a foxtrap poor victim writhing and vomiting crimson vomit from strongbow darkfruits that i can no longer stomach and never have chunderdragon cannot yield from the vomit a sweaty brow the extent of which has never before been seen in these labrynthine chambers only labrynthine inasmuch as a straight line with many curves and twists where is the slot for me? Where am i bound to go what are we when we get up where are we when we truly awaken ? where am I ? what time is it? What is the time! Wooden and let me go~! What is the time? Who are we when we get up?