The Arms of Orion
The Arms of Orion
Intro: Empath
“I can hear your heart pound; see the want course through your veins. I can smell the heat rise from you skin, between your legs. I can taste your dreams, red and white pungent funk falling like pink lemonade raindrops, a blood trail, calling running screaming from your flesh, “Touch me. Please touch me! Here where the passion lives. You know my secret desire, you know everything I fear to speak, and Godammit fill me with pleasure, please! Make me feel wanted, young, beautiful, loved. You know me, why must you torture me, why must I name my desire aloud. Untie me and free me from this self control. Tie me down beneath your crashing waves of flesh and drown in my blood. The moon is full, be my wolf man. Be an animal for me tonight. Press me into the earth and hold me to your power. Stop laughing at me! Let me be naïve, innocent, let me offer a virgin’s sacrifice again. Take the girl, I’ll be your woman another night”.
We were at level 1710, somewhere beneath the river, when the bomb went off. It was hidden in a freight train car. Sam didn’t make it. I remember a hiss and rumble and running across the wall to grab Sam from the sound, we were chipping port stone quartz from the salt. The wall split opened and he was thrown into my arms and we were pushed two hundred feet up through the tunnels of the salt mines, by invisible fire and caustic salt water, to level 1500, where the rescue teams found us. Well, I and what was left of Sam. The Port stones saved me. Of course it was days later when I found out what had happened and why, but by then everything had changed, especially me. We used to work for Vector Terrain Research. A corporate division of Wayne State University that was commissioned to study the pre-terrain mitochondria found dormant in crystalline rocks. In cell biology, a mitochondrion (from Greek mitos thread + khondrion granule) is an organelle found in most eukaryotic cells, including those of plants, animals, fungi, and protists. A few cells, such as the trypanosome protozoan, have a single large mitochondrion, but usually a cell has hundreds or thousands of mitochondria. The exact number of mitochondria depends on the cell's level of metabolic activity: more activity means more mitochondria. Mitochondria can occupy up to 25% of the cell's cytosol. This mitochondrion are genetically identical to the ones found in human cells, with the exception that when active they live as colonial organism and form a highly intelligent single being, just as it was millions of years ago. I always had a fondness for one of the first stones I chipped away from the salt walls. I tied it on a string wore it around my neck and called it Shelby, my pet rock. I felt Shelby spoke to me, that it shared a part of my life. I never knew just how much we really mean to each other.
“Orion, you know my mom really wants to fuck you. She says you are the best jeweler in Detroit. Why don’t you get a pass and open a shop in the epicenter? You’d be wealthy and famous.”
I’m safe here in the blue zone. People’s intentions are obvious here. They spend lots of money to get in to the quarantined areas to race, gamble and fuck the freaks that live here. I can trust what I feel here. Detroit is such a nasty city out there with its polished streets and pristine homes, with its structured living systems. That’s why you come down here to live the danger. To touch the things you fear. Here Caldera, this port stone is a diamond, you need to go make love with someone before I facet her.
“Why not you Orion I’d love to have your impression with me as a part of me. I’d love to feel your presence and pleasure”.
Orion Hubert finally turns on the overhead lights walks to the window and stares out at the night. The air is hot and muggy. The sound a woman’s screams over the drone of cars racing the streets of what was Southwest Detroit, now walled in to be the hotel Casino Midnight’s club race course. Across the street on an opened terrace, a middle aged man of apparent wealth is sodomizing a young Asian woman, suspended over the terrace rail by a strangling silk tie around her neck. Tomorrow she’ll play this game again, until she’s rich enough to retire or dead, fallen on the pavement below. Above them on a fire escape an elderly black woman showing signs of too many cosmetic surgeries, splashes lines of blood across her latex cat suit. Red lines painted onto the black rubber skin from the whistling riding crop she uses to raise welts from the pale skin of a skinny boy tied to the rusted iron beams and girders. Later she’ll throw money at him and leave unsatisfied again. And he’ll lay that money at the feet of his lover, a doctor who will heal him, drug him, fuck him and send him back for more. Below, on street level in a cheap restaurant, beyond a massive window to the left two women fight ‘til naked and bloody streaks slide down bullet proof glass. The winner, an unshapely plain faced late thirty something early forties looking woman, dressed too young for her age, is dragged by her hair by a black man dressed like a nineteen seventies movie pimp into the street and thrown across the hood of an old gray oxidized sedan, where he unzips his tight orange trousers and forces his cock ripping through her tearing panties into her hungry cunt. She claws at his back and draws blood from his skin. The looser rises from the greasy spoon floor and stumbles out to the sidewalk and rips open the dick impaled women’s thin synthetic blouse and drops her head between the breasts to suck the blood and sweat splashing from her sagging tits.
You’d love to possess me, would you like me to turn on the AC and close the window, you’d love to have me before or better yet instead of your mother. You want to be her. Caldera, I told you the Port stones changed me. Tell me what you’d do if I let you have your way with me Calera! Tell me how you’d make me feel! You’re bleeding; you like to fuck while you’re on your period. It makes you feel powerful, free. You hate that word ‘Fucking’, sounds so nasty to you. A bitch in heat thinks words are nasty. You’re a joke girl, a sad little joke. I’m not your dog & I don’t want to be your god. And no Caldera you can’t have my power.
I’m meteorologist Helena Gaius Petite and this has been the Pangaea Detroit channel 201 weather for Sunday may 31, 2015 and on to political news- With Gary Gnu
“Tragedy struck yesterday when a bomb in railroad car filled with manure was detonated in the tunnel beneath the Detroit River. The two hundred car freight train was transporting liquid methane and manure from Walkersville Ontario to Detroit for processing…”
Hey Doc, would you mind turning that thing off or down or blowing the fucking thing up?
“…The bomb is claimed to have been set by a radical terrorist group called RAP Tour 88…”
“Sure Orion, I can turn the volume down to mute, but they pay the bills here with advertising, I guess you’d not like to hear about your own death, so to speak. You’re blessed or lucky or something, because no one else survived and you walked out of that tunnel almost untouched”.
Yeah, I guess that’s a good thing, the rescue crews said they wouldn’t go down there to save their own mothers. It really smells like hot shit down there.
Doctor Bootnathan Hardeep turns to the barred over windows Vector Terrain Research infirmary into the morphing skyline of Epicenter Detroit, and begins to speak, “Orion you’ll be transported to new digs over in the Blue Zone, you’ll be give a small living stipend and access to the entire casino facility, but you’ll be restricted from everything else Detroit, anyone willing to enter the blue zone to see you, considering what they’ll have to do to leave must really care about you a lot and they can do what they want. We’ll be doing regular check ups on you, but for all intents and purposes you’re dead. You know my nurse really wants to have sex with you. He says your scars are beautiful, like a really elaborate tattoo, always changing”.
Hey, you got any cartoons on that thing? I really hate all that reality TV, you know? Tell him come see me when they check up, and could you look at me when you talk. Hey I just walked out of a two thousand foot deep toilet bowl, smelling fresh as a pineapple, not a single pain with brand new tattoos, and a whole new life. I didn’t have anybody, no family, no real friends outside of work and Sam’s buried under what? A kabillion tons of poop, hey, I think I’ve got it made, so when you letting me out of this sterile environment? Dose your wife know you’re in love with a man? And just one thing when can I go to the bathroom by myself? I really dislike that bed pan shit! The Blue Zone, well with the scars and all, I bet I could earn a good living as a whore, you think?
“Yes Orion, I do think you’d make a good living as a whore”.
Intro: Empath
“I can hear your heart pound; see the want course through your veins. I can smell the heat rise from you skin, between your legs. I can taste your dreams, red and white pungent funk falling like pink lemonade raindrops, a blood trail, calling running screaming from your flesh, “Touch me. Please touch me! Here where the passion lives. You know my secret desire, you know everything I fear to speak, and Godammit fill me with pleasure, please! Make me feel wanted, young, beautiful, loved. You know me, why must you torture me, why must I name my desire aloud. Untie me and free me from this self control. Tie me down beneath your crashing waves of flesh and drown in my blood. The moon is full, be my wolf man. Be an animal for me tonight. Press me into the earth and hold me to your power. Stop laughing at me! Let me be naïve, innocent, let me offer a virgin’s sacrifice again. Take the girl, I’ll be your woman another night”.
We were at level 1710, somewhere beneath the river, when the bomb went off. It was hidden in a freight train car. Sam didn’t make it. I remember a hiss and rumble and running across the wall to grab Sam from the sound, we were chipping port stone quartz from the salt. The wall split opened and he was thrown into my arms and we were pushed two hundred feet up through the tunnels of the salt mines, by invisible fire and caustic salt water, to level 1500, where the rescue teams found us. Well, I and what was left of Sam. The Port stones saved me. Of course it was days later when I found out what had happened and why, but by then everything had changed, especially me. We used to work for Vector Terrain Research. A corporate division of Wayne State University that was commissioned to study the pre-terrain mitochondria found dormant in crystalline rocks. In cell biology, a mitochondrion (from Greek mitos thread + khondrion granule) is an organelle found in most eukaryotic cells, including those of plants, animals, fungi, and protists. A few cells, such as the trypanosome protozoan, have a single large mitochondrion, but usually a cell has hundreds or thousands of mitochondria. The exact number of mitochondria depends on the cell's level of metabolic activity: more activity means more mitochondria. Mitochondria can occupy up to 25% of the cell's cytosol. This mitochondrion are genetically identical to the ones found in human cells, with the exception that when active they live as colonial organism and form a highly intelligent single being, just as it was millions of years ago. I always had a fondness for one of the first stones I chipped away from the salt walls. I tied it on a string wore it around my neck and called it Shelby, my pet rock. I felt Shelby spoke to me, that it shared a part of my life. I never knew just how much we really mean to each other.
“Orion, you know my mom really wants to fuck you. She says you are the best jeweler in Detroit. Why don’t you get a pass and open a shop in the epicenter? You’d be wealthy and famous.”
I’m safe here in the blue zone. People’s intentions are obvious here. They spend lots of money to get in to the quarantined areas to race, gamble and fuck the freaks that live here. I can trust what I feel here. Detroit is such a nasty city out there with its polished streets and pristine homes, with its structured living systems. That’s why you come down here to live the danger. To touch the things you fear. Here Caldera, this port stone is a diamond, you need to go make love with someone before I facet her.
“Why not you Orion I’d love to have your impression with me as a part of me. I’d love to feel your presence and pleasure”.
Orion Hubert finally turns on the overhead lights walks to the window and stares out at the night. The air is hot and muggy. The sound a woman’s screams over the drone of cars racing the streets of what was Southwest Detroit, now walled in to be the hotel Casino Midnight’s club race course. Across the street on an opened terrace, a middle aged man of apparent wealth is sodomizing a young Asian woman, suspended over the terrace rail by a strangling silk tie around her neck. Tomorrow she’ll play this game again, until she’s rich enough to retire or dead, fallen on the pavement below. Above them on a fire escape an elderly black woman showing signs of too many cosmetic surgeries, splashes lines of blood across her latex cat suit. Red lines painted onto the black rubber skin from the whistling riding crop she uses to raise welts from the pale skin of a skinny boy tied to the rusted iron beams and girders. Later she’ll throw money at him and leave unsatisfied again. And he’ll lay that money at the feet of his lover, a doctor who will heal him, drug him, fuck him and send him back for more. Below, on street level in a cheap restaurant, beyond a massive window to the left two women fight ‘til naked and bloody streaks slide down bullet proof glass. The winner, an unshapely plain faced late thirty something early forties looking woman, dressed too young for her age, is dragged by her hair by a black man dressed like a nineteen seventies movie pimp into the street and thrown across the hood of an old gray oxidized sedan, where he unzips his tight orange trousers and forces his cock ripping through her tearing panties into her hungry cunt. She claws at his back and draws blood from his skin. The looser rises from the greasy spoon floor and stumbles out to the sidewalk and rips open the dick impaled women’s thin synthetic blouse and drops her head between the breasts to suck the blood and sweat splashing from her sagging tits.
You’d love to possess me, would you like me to turn on the AC and close the window, you’d love to have me before or better yet instead of your mother. You want to be her. Caldera, I told you the Port stones changed me. Tell me what you’d do if I let you have your way with me Calera! Tell me how you’d make me feel! You’re bleeding; you like to fuck while you’re on your period. It makes you feel powerful, free. You hate that word ‘Fucking’, sounds so nasty to you. A bitch in heat thinks words are nasty. You’re a joke girl, a sad little joke. I’m not your dog & I don’t want to be your god. And no Caldera you can’t have my power.
I’m meteorologist Helena Gaius Petite and this has been the Pangaea Detroit channel 201 weather for Sunday may 31, 2015 and on to political news- With Gary Gnu
“Tragedy struck yesterday when a bomb in railroad car filled with manure was detonated in the tunnel beneath the Detroit River. The two hundred car freight train was transporting liquid methane and manure from Walkersville Ontario to Detroit for processing…”
Hey Doc, would you mind turning that thing off or down or blowing the fucking thing up?
“…The bomb is claimed to have been set by a radical terrorist group called RAP Tour 88…”
“Sure Orion, I can turn the volume down to mute, but they pay the bills here with advertising, I guess you’d not like to hear about your own death, so to speak. You’re blessed or lucky or something, because no one else survived and you walked out of that tunnel almost untouched”.
Yeah, I guess that’s a good thing, the rescue crews said they wouldn’t go down there to save their own mothers. It really smells like hot shit down there.
Doctor Bootnathan Hardeep turns to the barred over windows Vector Terrain Research infirmary into the morphing skyline of Epicenter Detroit, and begins to speak, “Orion you’ll be transported to new digs over in the Blue Zone, you’ll be give a small living stipend and access to the entire casino facility, but you’ll be restricted from everything else Detroit, anyone willing to enter the blue zone to see you, considering what they’ll have to do to leave must really care about you a lot and they can do what they want. We’ll be doing regular check ups on you, but for all intents and purposes you’re dead. You know my nurse really wants to have sex with you. He says your scars are beautiful, like a really elaborate tattoo, always changing”.
Hey, you got any cartoons on that thing? I really hate all that reality TV, you know? Tell him come see me when they check up, and could you look at me when you talk. Hey I just walked out of a two thousand foot deep toilet bowl, smelling fresh as a pineapple, not a single pain with brand new tattoos, and a whole new life. I didn’t have anybody, no family, no real friends outside of work and Sam’s buried under what? A kabillion tons of poop, hey, I think I’ve got it made, so when you letting me out of this sterile environment? Dose your wife know you’re in love with a man? And just one thing when can I go to the bathroom by myself? I really dislike that bed pan shit! The Blue Zone, well with the scars and all, I bet I could earn a good living as a whore, you think?
“Yes Orion, I do think you’d make a good living as a whore”.
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