(all of a sudden, the NORTH alarmed fire exit door mapped itself onto the two opposing towers in GU, level 7 annex.)
Or, the NORTH alarmed fire se sexit exit door was mapped upon by GU level seven annex towers, also alarmed. To disarm the alarm, one must possess 2 little keys, which live in rusty tins in rusty rooms. One must hear the alarm on one’s daily travels. The alarm screams- no one sits in level 7 so no one tends to hear it.
Free to travel down to greet me level seven two towers which reminded me so much of level 2 (actually, second floor, no levels here just floors, ground, first, second)
Here, level 2, where something truly gruesome happened, like or as most likely predicted
Yanked out, he was, by 2 Polis and presumably the campus security gards
Level 7 two tower alarmed exits have very little windows each that you can peer through, if you fuck up and lock yourself in the tower as you look for runaways, everyone can see you knocking and begging from the other side.
The alarms do not operate in sync, but you must disarm both sides, mercifully, not the opposites, no partner required.
Level two, or second floor? The incident, so named, or carried out happened in both places- or at least one of these
Toilet block
Second floor
A place I do not recognise
Level 2
Communal area
And planning across the communal, plainly brazen, yet unable to be yanked, plainly secret
NORTH alarmed fire exit door probably screams like level 7 two towers I am sure, but the box is different. I wonder whether the people here have those rusty tins. I see their mountains of keys in the refectory, they are shiny- they do have the same little caps and tags.
Cap and tag me
Stinking chemical warfare polypropylene glycol jasmine plastic (sweet) plastic (not sweet, more like glue, more salty more metallic) all plastic smells sweet.
Stinking fantomas chemical warfare so sticky melon and plastic gunpowder stench of man stench of manmade man stink.
Level 7 two towers have this smell somewhat, like in their keyholes. They are so hard to disarm. You have to be in sync or once the key is withdrawn the scream resumes- all posts all guns are audible, plus, you have a baying audience, plus their strange sensibility undeterred by the screaming until you come to shut them up. Then you are a spectacle-worker, must efficiently disarm, slam the doors hook the keys get lambasted.
Level 2 is an easy key
Level 2 mapped itself onto the block and the incidental whatever
I might be accusing, I am sick, I am accusatory, I am in the chamber level 7 trying to get out of another screamer, chemical stench my charger and technology blasting out, just 3 blotters and a spray, what the hell!
And push the bar, so it tells you to do it- so what? So we’re gonna push it, you go find the tin, you shut it up, whilst I
Am recreating or sowing something for the eventual second level, so I am on level what? We can’t assess it- this building has three floors in one I think the toilets must be 2.5 or something since they’re under that canopy
Who cares. Point me in the correct direction cupboard full of wire statues, I am told squarely, I am fraternising, you are, i catch you in the act.
I had no idea. And what! Mapped onto fire action fire exit only this door is alarmed, wellll worked it out eventually. Push the bar, hear it wail, rescue the runaways, shout down the stair well, climb it up, down, whatever, look theres a bottle of piss in the stairs, oh god who GIVES a shit anymore!
In the stairwell first. Then a room, then 2.5, then ritual, then comes vomit, then comes a plan then comes shit then vomit then shit then vomit, then it is a categorised unreality, the shit is part of unreality.
Killer birds are released onto each other
Attempted leap from the roof, then more shit, always int the most convenient centre, right next to the toilets always pristine and perfect, yes. Now I know exactly everything, i have a yellow flag, tape, and a hazmat suit. I am so perfectly versed in every human fluid- but not the moving body, if you lie before me bleeding, I can touch the blood, feel it, clean it, I cannot touch you.
Vomit first, then change location, overnight, shit, morning, it is uncovered
I comb through the buildings looking to lock eyes with you in the act. I am making it up, I have no live information feed, except your genius blind spot sitting habits.
Scream down the phone, hang up, vomit, shit the next day, cycle and repeat every sunday at precisely 5pm.
I have no evidence, turn and repeat turn vomit and shit.
I found you in the schedule, you cannot stand up to the creaking machine of set prescribed time window, I saw you with my cameras eye and found you in a little crack in the schedule, sure enough, vomit, retreat, shit, repeat.
I am in convention with present security apparatus, plant my flag, find my people sink booze sink a dram quit leave quit it all run out of money for all I care, get institutioned
And at home, a scarce material, in the kitchen, consume the rotten food, smear the halls, plan smear bedroom walls with shit
Ritual , shit, trodden into a circle, magical hideaway, vomit in the middle, complete
Complete complete- gorgeous.
And wheres the meaning or moral at the end?, such an amount of sightings, I thought I saw you againthe other day, we are attached by large intestine
I still know where the incinerator is, how to powder and dry spilled blood, how to look a patient in the eye to tell them
You cannot be touched and cannot be helped.