[14:23] Me: hAPPY dISCORDIA dAY!

[14:23] Her: blue fish Tuesday

[14:24] Me: Noon Blue Apples!

[14:24] Her: hehe
[14:24] Her: how are you?

[14:25] Me: Solitary situation salutes the sacred!

[14:41] Her: so how are things going for you?

[14:42] Me: You do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around. that’s what it’s all about.
[14:43] Me: the Dark Room Club eats my mind.

[14:43] Her: i bet they make antibiotics for that kind of thing

[14:44] Me: Camara Clubs my friends join occupy time and space, crunching other concerns and devouring other distractions.

[14:44] Her: go on.

[14:45] Me: Negative burns on the soul.
[14:45] Me: Games of the mind tempt games of the heart, but nobody wins. All broken like jigsaw puzzles.

[14:45] Her: now, I’m damn sure they have anti-burn soul cream.
[14:45] Her: you should probably go to Walgreens and get some if it really is that bad

[14:46] Me: Nameless claims of blasphemy and balderdash. Lies with no beards, like eagles, tear truth’s tender heart.
[14:47] Me: Once friends, now strangers, aliens on different shores, speaking in tongues neither understand.

[14:47] Her: in that case, I recommend a translator

[14:47] Me: Translate, transpond, transmute.
[14:48] Me: All add up to change when the direct message is still digitially distorted by dogmatic distance.
[14:48] Me: “Nyah nyah nyah! I can’t hear you!”
[14:49] Me: “Nyah nyah nyah! I don’t want to hear you!”
[14:49] Me: “Nyah nyah Nyarlathotep! Chaos crawls between the seems (and the seams). He rests where he’s allowed.

[14:51] Her: actually, Nyarlathotep crawls wherever he damn well pleases. You also address him with “Ia!” not “Nyah!”.
[14:51] Her: It was the Hounds of Tindalos who were bound to the seams
[14:51] Her: they could only get into our world through the angles of time, not the curves in which we exist.

[14:51] Me: Dogma distorts the message.
[14:52] Me: Translate, transpond, transmute.