
pulserifle187
MemberNoobFeb-03-2014 12:26 AM
pulserifle187
MemberNoobFeb-03-2014 12:30 AM
pulserifle187
MemberNoobFeb-03-2014 12:39 AM
Svanya
Admin2KFeb-03-2014 1:12 AM
Sawa
MemberNoobFeb-04-2014 8:43 PM





It was as if Pris, to me, were both life itself - and anti-life, the dead,
the cruel, the cutting and rending and yet also the spirit of existence
itself. Movement: she was motion itself. Life in its growing, planning,
calculating, harsh, thoughtless actuality.
I could not stand having her around me; I could not stand being without
her. Without Pris I dwindled away until I became nothing and eventually died
like a bug in the backyard, unnoticed and unimportant; around her I was slashed,
goaded, cut to pieces, stepped on - yet somehow I lived; in that, I was real.
Did I enjoy suffering? No. It was that it seemed as if suffering was part of
life, part of being with Pris. Without Pris there was no suffering, nothing
erratic, unfair, unbalanced. But also, there was nothing alive, only small-time
schlock schemes, a dusty little office with two or three men scrabbling in the
sand.
PKD - We Can Build You (1972)


PKD @SFF Audio


pulserifle187
MemberNoobFeb-06-2014 7:29 PMJoin the discussion! Sign in using your Scified Account to add your say!
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