Yes, now he is. There. With fire in his mouth. I see him. Look! You can see him. This is something holy and pure. If Cheyne Capital vibrates in a lonely cosmos - and we all know it does - then there is nothing to fear. What will Max distribute?
I have been feeling ill all afternoon. And I started off so well, so full of joy at finding Pablo! Not physically ill. Not mentally ill. Spiritually ill! My soul wants to be sick!
O Master, you should not write, not in your condition.
O my child, I am not pregnant. Unless - pregnant with visions!
O Master, will your soul give birth to a new reality?
My soul is ready to burst!
And now I am hearing the words of Max. They come to me. I see the fire of Max. Burning …
Does it all burn? Yes.
Will I feel better? Who can say?
THIS IS NOT SATISFYING! There has to be more than words. There has to be more than visions. Maybe Max has the answer, but not words, not visions. Maybe Cheyne Capital has the answer. Maybe Reuters has the answer. Maybe you, dear reader, have the answer, or maybe some medicine. Something. There must be something else, or something more, or something different.
MAX. MAX. MAX. MAX. MAX. MAX. MAX. MAX. MAX. MAX.
CHEYNECHEYNEcheyne.
Max. M a x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x!
O heavenly powers, restore him!
