sicilianterrorart

There are only patterns, patterns on top of patterns, patterns that affect other patterns. Patterns hidden by patterns. Patterns within patterns. If you watch close, history does nothing but repeat itself. What we call chaos is just patterns we haven't recognized. What we call random is just patterns we can't decipher. What we can't understand we call nonsense. What we can't read we call gibberish. There is no free will. There are no variables. The bad news is we don't have any control. The good news is you can't make any mistakes.

The normal question, the first question is always, "Are these cannibals?" No, they are not cannibals. Cannibalism in the true sense of the word implies an intraspecies activity. These creatures cannot be considered human. They prey on humans. They do not prey on each other; that's the difference. They attack and they feed only on warm human flesh. Intelligence? Seemingly little or no reasoning ability, but basic skills remain a more... remembered behaviours of ah, normal life. There are reports of these creatures using tools. But even these actions are the most primitive; the use of tools as bludgeons and so forth. I might point out that even

«Allora, cara» dice Brandy. «Cosa è successo al tuo viso?» Gli uccelli. Scrivo: uccelli. Gli uccelli hanno mangiato il mio viso. E comincio a ridere. Brandy non ride. Brandy dice: «Cosa significa?». E sto ancora ridendo. ero in macchina sull' autostrada, scrivo. E sto ancora ridendo. qualcuno ha sparato una pallottola calibro 30 con un fucile. Il proiettile mi ha strappato l'intera mascella dalla faccia. Ancora ridendo. Sono venuta all' ospedale, scrivo. Non sono morta. Ridendo. Non hanno potuto riarraccarmi la mascella perché i gabbiani l'avevano mangiata. E smetto di ridere. «Car