A non-convoluting vortex slowly unfolded above my head, its edges warping to a fish eyed microcosm of reflected reality (ahaaaarghhhh...there be conceptual contunuity afoot). The vortex descended over my body, assuming my form through an ancient A/D conversion and I slid, overtly mutilated (in 15 bits) through an extended vapour chamber, complete with damp hinges and cavernous pretence. Long semi-natural coaxial cables, encrusted with sweaty algarus sphinctinate brushed my molecules, twisting them into new forms.

Finally, a gradual D/A conversion released me and I spilled like something emerging from a split sausage skin onto the ground in front of what appeared to be an elevator door. Above the door was a sign indicating that I had arrived at The Inn of Infinite Potential . In need of a reprise, I picked myself up and walked towards the elevator doors which opened with a "juuuuurrrrgaaaaaaannnnooouuuuuusssssipititititit...it.it...it......it.......it.......it". Nonchalantly, I swaggered inside to be rather rudely confronted with baffling MUZAK...

The Digital Diary