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Bob - May 30, 2018

Even in his suffering he still comes back.   In intense darkness pits you learn a lot of life. First, to not be afraid of train tracks. He hunts and he fishes and brings it all back to share over dinner or alone in warm black. Life is never straight. Feelings, the body and the soul live in psychophysicdogmiasmatic soups. They drip down the sides of life, welling at feet. Most people enjoy dry socks, but he plays puddle hopping until the mud makes sense (though it never makes sense, might at least enjoy the mud.). And he touches cold corners of the map because there's only so much cold left in the world. And he writes, and laughs at himself, and in that brings to community such a friendly confidence that you can't help but break straight-listening-focused-serious--trying to figure it out--face whenever he bears his joy to the world. Second-coming of christ-Bob shows us that love is best liquor, and that it's good for your skin too.

There is the city ElTepok

There is the city ElTepok

As you approach from far off it is invisible. The dark, dense walls of the Ebonwood render it so. A needle seemingly could not be thread through the the trees for there are so many. However from the birds eye, the city is a grevious grey wound in a sea of foaming green and brown. So few are the trees kept alive in the city, to make way for the many inhabitants houses, shops, warehouses and industry and foundry, and the knotted, choking creeper of the Impish bureaucratic state. The grey-black stone buildings draw a line against the lush green forest enclosing the city.

On the edges of the city, To the River Sang and In to the Sea, the buildings become smaller, denser, and the streets dirtier. Few trees pox the skin of the city there, but still the skin is warped and contused. And it is being squeezed by the dominant stone structures looming over them. The city ever creates a crisis for the poor, moves them in as servants and slaves, uses them, and discards them on the streets as halflights if they aren't worth value to the Front or the Fingers. Eventually the belly of the city grows out, and further pushes those discarded towards the wood.

Presiding over all the great sprawl, towering even above the smog of the economy and war effort, is a two tiered structure. A sharp tall tower, that bends at 60° halfway up. Near the top, overlooking the city of Tepok, a balcony. The building, the palace, resembles a great thumb flattening the ground. All around it, the city in the forest, it's great thumbprint. It is said that the palace is the thumb of the Empor, and the wake of the city are the people under it. In this season of white light, the vines covering the grey-black stone thumb look dead, brown, leafless, and dry. It looks like the people had climbed the impossible walls of the palace were crushed, and became dried gore that was forgoten to be clean off. This is the house of the Empor, the House of Contention, and the House of Resolution. This is where the Ordinatorus, Auditorus, Oratorus, Imperus, and Lectrum are housed. And this is where the feeble, meager Stragohrat died, and this is where the Impish Empire of the Wood died. 

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