1.A half of My life plays itself over the abyss.
The beauties of My faces multiply and divide themselves.
I do not feel as you feel.
You do not feel as I feel.

2.Looking at My faces through the consuming nightmares of My stomach.
An all-consuming ton of ugliness.
An all-absorbing ton of endless superstition.
Again and again, it grows and happens.
Over and over it turns itself around.

3.Every night I give Myself a new murder at My own hands.
The next morning I give birth to Myself again.
I give birth to Myself again and destroy Myself again.
I explore the body of the mannequin.

4.Around Me there are circles of natural scum.
Swirling Myself in a dance of decomposition.

5.Collapse.

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