Laocoon and his sons, a marble statue, for that, he could not crying out loud.
Clayton came home. It is the 5th November 2021. It was a good day. Easy work. No stress, so he could recover. He is still on call. His last terrific time trial is just 6 days old. He is training intuitively. Not really knowing what distance is today's plan. For some reason he has time for the whole evening. And he feels fit. So his guess is that it will be a longer piece. The 10k was so fabulous, splendid teamwork, finishing only a few seconds apart from each other. His coach and friend was rolling with zero watts over the finish line. For Clayton it was a personal best on his machine. She said: “well done, time trials are back !” Will it just be another relaxed row today ?
*~cc~*: Buddy, you've recovered, you've got the time, so it's time for you to set a new personal best for the distance of all distances!
Clayton: I just thought my distance of all distances is the 10k ? What are you up to ? What's your plan ?
*~cc~*: The 10k was nice. Now it is about an epic distance. We both will dive deep into myth. This is something special. It is not for the timid. The distance of all distances - what could it only be ?
Clayton: You wanna do me an all out effort for a full marathon ?
*~cc~*: There you go ! That is the plan. Do it. There is no try !
Clayton: ok, I am looking forward to it. I am preparing for a FM, need some bottles of water + electrolytes and energy gels and all the rest of it.
Since everything was prepared, he started his notebook, the game. The gameplay was obvious. After a little warm up it will be a specific route on which the Avatar of Claytons divine counterpart will ride on a specific bike. Which Route ? Which bike ? It was not Claytons decision.
*~cc~*: You'll remember this time trial travel, buddy! You and I will dive deep into the myth. Together as one team. In this time trial, I will be more than ever the great bright-eyed one. More in the style of the ancient Greek myth than a Dutch cyclist. Feel the myth. Feel all the emotions. Be with them. We are a great army in a battle.
Clayton: Sounds like a hell of a row, a bloody time trial !
*~cc~*:
Shook by my arm the mighty javelin bends,
Ponderous and huge; that when her fury burns,
Proud tyrants humbles, and whole hosts overturns.
Clayton: epic words !
*~cc~*: for an epic time trial !
Clayton: Which bike do you want to ride? Which route do you want to take?
*~cc~*: It won't be the time trial bike for a change. Give me the fastest climbing setup with the Lightweight Meilenstein. I love that name. The route will be the mega Brezen. It will contain lots of little hills to climb. And some dirty gravel fun.
Clayton: So it will be done !
The setup procedure and the warm-up went in a certain routine and without deep emotions. Deeper emotions, which are hardly perceived in the real world out there, come into play if one disconnects from the usual gameplay by simply…turning off the Wi-Fi. There is always this feeling of suddenly being alone - thus not being alone. To be one with the divine counterpart. It's that unforgettable sense of awe, bliss, and a humbleness that you feel when you get closer to the divine.
*~cc~*: keep calm on the first meters, stay in the yellow endurance zone. Be definitely under your second lactate threshold. I am preparing you for something !
Clayton: So it will be done !
The asphalt road behind the volcano leads first to an Italian village, a small dirt road uphill to a fountain. She took the turn to the right. The wheels hummed their voices. A waterfall nestles along with its magical pling plang of falling water drops. A relaxed descent to the harbor. No rowing boats. Clayton's split time just above the first lactate threshold in his yellow endurance zone. Heroes do what the gods tell them to do. They have no choice. A first steep climb to a bridge before turning right again toward the jungle. Past a Dutch windmill.
*~cc~*: mmmh Buddy. It is still so relaxing. But your heart is already excited. No wonder. After my little prologue. You want to know what awaits you, don’t you ?
Clayton: yes, it is still comfortable, heartrate 138 bpm, pace 1:57 and stroke rate 29. I let myself be surprised.
*~cc~*: You and your numbers ! Let's talk about fantasy stories. Let’s talk about the Iliad. You know the story. Give me the names of two heroes.
Clayton: oh suggestive question, you wanna hear Achilles and Odysseus ! They are friends in battle. They respect each other. Achilles is the greatest hero while Odysseus is the cunning man, favored by the great bright eyed one !
*~cc~*: yeah, good, now this story has been told for ages. In their younger years they already became a myth. Imagine the excited and touched faces when they told the story of their heroes over and over again around the campfire or in the tavern among friends. How the imagination of the people inspired them to immerse themselves in another world. Those feelings of longing, for a glorious battle, for victory and triumph versus the opposite, the fear of defeat and humility. These feelings were strong. Very strong. Even if just told between campfires.
Clayton: These stories were the entertainment art of the ancient times. The movies and series in which people lost themselves in their imagination. Heroes and gods fighting and quarreling, fate and fortune, tragedy and redemption, all mixed in the art. Everyone had his own fantasy. His own little nutshell.
*~cc~*: The people of old carried the stories in their hearts all their lives. They were waiting for their own bliss. For their own redemption.
While Clayton focused part of his mind on rowing technique, the other part listened to his friends' words about the great myth. He loves fantasy stories. Whether it's the ancient ones or the newer ones with the green little dwarf or the gray wizard.
*~cc~*: Imagine that there are not only storytellers and listeners. Imagine the real warriors. The ones who fought in a real battle. For the protection of their country or their families. For the will of a foolish or honorable king. Whatever. Those feelings, the emotional highs they experienced in a real battle. About life and death. They must have been strong. Or were they not?
Clayton: Oh yes, those feelings were strong.
*~cc~*: And I say: these incredibly strong feelings. They can break through the barrier of time and space. And that's exactly what we will experience in this time trial. You will achieve your personal record in the full marathon. That's just a side effect. What counts is what you and I are about to experience right now.
Clayton: yes, my friend, I let myself be surprised !
*~cc~*: Time to turn the screw a bit. Row in the middle of yellow.
Clayton: So it will be done ! I’ll increase pace now by 2-3s/500m. This should put me in the middle of yellow.
The avatar of Clayton's friend and coach has approached a mystical place with many waterfalls, wondrous plants and animals. Ancient temples, partly dilapidated and yet very well preserved find harmony at everyone's passage. Numerous large and small bridges line the way through this small virtual universe, now it is crossing an imposing hammock bridge. A short but determined down and up, the speed increases, the banging of the wooden boards is clearly perceptible, a waterfall is in sight, everything seems to be there, in the here and now.
The mega Brezen, a route for virtual cycling in a fantasy world out of bits and bytes.
*~cc~*: Now you're excited. All of it. You're on alert. Ready for battle. Like an army which runs towards the enemy. Focused. It can be a glorious battle. Heroes are born. Warriors will fall. Be one of them. Be my favorite. My cunning King of Ithaca. What is he missing now ?
Clayton: He is missing his friend. Achilles. Achilles does not show up. They are friends. Just friends. But Achilles is missing.
*~cc~*: Yes, I feel your despair. I feel your pain. Wait, just wait. It's too early to let it out. We are still in the middle of yellow. Close your eyes again. Keep the pace, keep rowing in good technique, we are not yet in the heated battle. It will come. Close your eyes. You are approaching the battlefield. Your sorrow is that you miss your friend. And all these last days you had to be silent like a marble statue. No one would have allowed you to scream. No one understood your deep feelings. Because Achilles does not fight with you. Achilles doesn't care. And why should Achilles care, for you are simply the nobody.
Clayton: I can feel my anger, it gives me focus. It makes me stronger. I am missing Achilles. Friend, you are sticking your fingers into the wound you have caused.
*~cc~*: Yes, I can feel you, that is your anger, your despair. Achilles will not fight with you. But hey, Buddy, don't you see? I am right here. I'm with you. I am by your side. Whom do you give the Apple ?
Clayton: You are with me, closer than anything else and yet so far away. You will never appear in this world, you will never represent yourself as the most beautiful object, therefore you will always be far away. I feel your spirit. But Achilles is not here.
*~cc~*: Your feelings are strong, you still have to be calm, calm like a statue carved in marble. The arrows do not yet fly, nor are the swords bright without blood.
Clayton: I hold the pace at yellow. I hope it will be a superb time !
*~cc~*: Buddy, your marathon time is a secondary matter. I have something completely different in mind here! We are about to experience a crack in the time-space grid. That's what's going to be special!
The virtual cyclist climbs its way out of this mystical jungle. The dirt and dust rises behind the wheels and disappears into the void of bits and bytes. Again a paved road. Past the windmill. In its usual tortuous form it winds up to an epic pass, the special climb to the radio tower is not taken. On a high alpine road it goes down to the Bavarian castle and through the German village back to sea level. The watts of this virtual cyclist, it is what it is, fantasy!-adapted to the pace of Clayton's constantly repeating humming-whoosh of real-world generated wattage on his machine.
*~cc~*: You stay quiet like a marble statue and let the despair and anger rest inside you. It's an easy thing to do yet, isn't it, Buddy? That will change in a moment. Wait, just wait! We're approaching the real battle. And I say, now is the time to turn the screw a little bit again. LT2 Turning Point. That's the point I want to get to. Ramp up the pace. I want the MLSS. I don't care what it takes. Take me to the threshold. The clash of armies begins here right now, so zooon. We bring the mitochondria inside us to a boil. We turn up everything to that magical threshold. Maximum lactate steady state. Now ! The real battle is being fought now. Stay precise with your technique, let your legs push hard and your arms sweep in, let your upper body swing along elegantly, transfer all your energy. Feel the magic of the threshold where lactation and elimination reach their peak. May mythologists argue about what will happen now, I do it simply because I can, with you together as a team.
Clayton: Hey Coach, isn't it a little early to start pushing the pace to MLSS? I just rowed 65minutes. Ironically you just cycled the marathon distance, so there's still about 65 km to go for your badge. I'm sure it's about 100 minutes until we cross the finish line and for me to see the magic zero. My time to exhaustion is about 45 minutes after all. The math doesn't add up.
*~cc~*: Buddy, trust me! So many uncertainties in your calculation. I'm not in the mood for any numbers. You know that. Our main task here is not to get a great result. That's secondary. I said I want to show you something. A crack in the time and space grid. So don't moan. Trust me. Push yourself to the 2nd threshold, maximum lactate steady state. Just do it. There is no try.
Clayton: So it will be done! I will raise the pace to 1:50-1:52 /500m.
The cyclist approaches the volcano. Eager, swift, and with a cool as dry-ice-face it rides past the dwarf machine in the heat toward the summit of the Fire Mountain. Just another climb for the lightweights. Clayton's heartbeat slowly crosses the 150 mark. It will continue to climb. The real battle begins.
*~cc~*: Focus, pushin' n pullin'. Find your steady state of agitation. Close your eyes. Feel the first arrows of the enemy. They rush close to you. You hear them close to your head. You feel some warriors next to you being hit by them. They don't stop fighting. They know what is at stake. I lead them into battle. They all, like you, believe in me. They trust in me. With their hearts and souls. Loyalty. That is what I expect. Are you a king? The king of Ithaca? Are you? No, you're not. You're just a warrior on the battlefield right now. My favorite, this is you. But not a king. You're a nobody. Achilles will never hear you.
Clayton: Friend, you make me angry, I feel it, I feel what you want from me, the battle is so close to me.
*~cc~*: What is with Achilles ? You already gave up ? And I say “scream the name of the greatest warrior of all times, scream the Name which never will be forgotten, let all the anger and pain out of you. Scream the Name of Achilles, scream it louder than Laocoon ever could scream, let him scream, you are no longer a marble statue. Let yourself go. Scream for Achilles. Scream louder and better than Laocoon and Agamemnon ever together could crying out loud.
Clayton: ACHILLES !
*~cc~*: Achilles won’t hear you, these days, my favorite, is just a simple warrior, a simple insignificant warrior, one of so many, not a King, not the King of Ithaca. Achilles won’t hear, Achilles won’t join you in Battle. You have to do it alone. So, is this everything you got ? This small whispery scream. Laocoon is hit. You are hit. Agamemnon, an ashole of a King. So please, one more Time. With all the anger in you. Screaming for the greatest hero of all time. Cryin’ out loud. I wanna hear the Name, we all will remember.
Clayton: AAA-CHILL- LEEEEeeeeeeES !
*~cc~*: yeahh, that’s it boy, one more time, for me, for I am with you, can’t you feel it. One last time, the cryin’ out loud. The greatest hero. Achilles will never hear you. You will die alone in Battle.
Clayton: AAA-CHILL- LEEEEEEEeeeeeeEEESSSS !
*~cc~*: Yes, this is great, I feel these explosive emotions, this toxic battle-adrenalin of anger, furious, despair and its longing for redemption, for an unknown bliss. We are at the point. The crack will open.
Clayton:
I thirst !
*~cc~*: Then drink a bit, this is not Christianity here, it is not a crucifiction, this is a battle some hundred years earlier !
Clayton: So it will be done, my great bright eyed one !
In the middle of a long-forgotten battle, with a long-forgotten hero, for a long-forgotten king-all this experienced during a marathon as an active imagination. So it is that Clayton perceived the virtual cyclist, the avatar of his friend and coach, only incidentally. It was these glimpses, which this friend, this great bright-eyed one granted him, that drew Clayton into a completely different world than the virtual one before him. Of course, he did not completely forget the fantasy world out of bites and bytes. It was, after all, this friend's avatar. So this virtual cyclist rodes her way back again, seeming to take the route in reverse, up over a long bridge, another climb for the lightweights, the German village, the Bavarian castle up to the high alpine road.
*~cc~*: So, do you feel a little fresher after having a drop of something to drink? Close your eyes again, you are in the battle, you are with this long forgotten hero, some warrior whose real name has been forgotten for millennia. Fight with him, feel with him, you are one, you are the same, he is a spiritual warrior, like you are a spiritual athlete, facing the real terrors of life, a real battle, compared to you, you are just sitting comfortably on your machine doing a workout, a marathon. You are with him,
your mind to his mind
feel the heat of the battle, the only thing you can add to his courage is to row the hell out of you, both of you are fighting for me, not for some stupid king, not for some superhero who doesn't show up. Fight for me. I am with you both. I will guide you. I will take care of you. I am there. I'll lead you to glory. That's what you want to believe. Believe it. It makes things easier.
Clayton: Uh Oh, what is that, now I really feel him, his emotions, his despair and hope, his wishes to come home, the spiritual love for you, my great bright eyed one ! There is this strange feeling around my head.
*~cc~*: stay focussed, that’s the crack in time and space , be with this warrior, fight with him, fight for me, give me everything you got, let those emotions flow, I am with you.
Clayton: I feel it, I'm in this battle with this warrior, he's running, he's excited, hope and fear, he believes in you, he loves you, you help him make sense of his life. It's a spiritual relationship. What is that? Uh Oh, a lot of arrows whiz past him with hazardous rapidity, he keeps running, he is a very strong and proud fighter, trying to dodge where he can, the agitation increases, with it the hope you will be with him.
*~cc~*: wait, just wait !
Clayton: oh no, he has been hit by a arrow, I feel it, the pain, the despair, the fading hope, 2 more arrows, one of them deep into his chest. Uncontrolled haemorrhage. Uncontrolled despair. Pure Sadness. The End of all dreams, absolute fading hope.
In this active imagination during a marathon attempt, this far away war, a long time ago, this battle, comes closer and closer into Claytons mind. So many warriors left their lifes. Fighting for a better world ? For the protection of their families ? For the will of a stupid King ? Who knows ? So many warriors fell and all their names were forgotten so zooon. Due to a simple trick of his friend Clayton was with one of them. She did it with a fingersnap. Clayton feels the emotions of one of these warriors. Who is it ? The forgotten hero. Who is about to fall. Hit by several arrows. One impaled the warriors chest, straight through the aorta descendens, the main artery that passes the blood to organs, but also to the fighting legs of our ancient hero. Hit. Irreversibly damaged. A major internal injury. Hemorrhagic shock. The ancient warrior falls to the ground. Defenseless. Close to unconsciousness. He still wants to fight. The last piece of life revolts against death. The agony of life.
*~cc~*: stay with him, feeling with the ancient warriors emotions, dreaming together the agony of life. What is he dreaming ?
Clayton: He is on the verge of fainting, but is still fighting with himself. He wants to live. There is still the cry for hope. He is crying out for you. He is begging you for help. Help him! Take care of him! Please! Be with us, friend! Where are you? He has a vision, he sees you. Don't you care? Why don't you care? Why do you leave us alone, here, wounded, on the battlefield? Please, my great bright eyed one, take care of us!
*~cc~*: The agony of life is the most terrible moment in life, it is the moment when the wise divine will turn it’s back on you. What is he crying out loud?
Clayton: "my great bright eyed one,
why have you forsaken me ?"
pure despair, pure pain, pure agony
*~cc~*: What is left of his conscious mind, it is about to let it flow into the moment of time. The high elevated heartrate decreases to the magic zero line. Witness, be with his final ascent. What are his last fading thoughts ?
It is finished.
Clayton: Oh, this is so beautiful, now you come back, in a white robe, barefooted, you take care of him, give him one last kiss on his forehead, take him on your powerful arms, give him bliss, divine bliss, divine love, his last words:
"my great bright-eyed one,
into your hands I commend my spirit
I will give this stolen fire, the apple back into your hands!"
Ascension of the warrior's soul.
Losing the battle of the agony of life, he had to give up, letting go. The last fading visions of a simple warrior. An abstract fantasy, the imaginary object of his feminine divine, who carries the hero light-footedly from the battlefield, cares for him mercifully and with the greatest compassion, with all her wisdom, the last divine bliss on earth.
The sky cracks open, the bloody colors of the battlefield, the lifeless body of the warrior soaked in blood, it gives way to the one light becoming brighter and brighter. As a whole subject and anti-subject united, dissolving in itself, redeeming from this bound world of objects, ascending into the most holy Quietiv, into the One Light.
Clayton: puuh, what was that ?
*~cc~*: you experienced the emotions of the agony of life and finally Death with the heart and visions of an ancient warrior. Not only did you experience his vision, you shared it, with a team effort, you, him and me, out of three. Now, with your imagination, the idea of this scene was united with this warrior. We helped this warrior to experience death with this beautiful fantasy.
Clayton: You are different, for him you are a tall powerful general or whatever high rank soldier on a battlefield. For me, you are just a woman in a jersey, on a bike.
*~cc~*: Whatever one’s desire if one is alive. You are not an ancient warrior. You live in a completely different timeline. And uh oh: look at your pace ! You are not dead. No time to die. It is not finished yet, your marathon ! Hang in there, I am not the bright eyed one of the ancient time. I am your own Version of it, let’s get back to our own battle. I slowed down a bit. Come on, gimme your watts, make me fast, let’s face it ! I am with you. All the time. Do you need any other superhero ? Whom do you give the Apple ? Whom do you give the Sticky Bottle ?
Clayton: What is a Sticky Bottle ?
*~cc~*: I’ll explain it one day, first you will laugh…wait, just wait ! Answer my question, Whom do you give the apple to ?
Clayton: I will only give it to you !
*~cc~*: This is the loyalty I expect from my closest warriors…or Athletes !
Clayton: Oh no, my pace really got down, now projected finish says 165min, I wanted to go under 160min !
*~cc~*: Pace is irrelevant, fight it with me, let’s bring it home, you are not your pace, be with me, feel me, lets finish this together, as a team, we are one. Watch out, I am riding over that Hammock Bridge ! We love it. We love bridges. We love waterfalls.
Clayton refocused on his mission to row a personal record, a personal best, at the marathon distance. He was exhausted now. Totally at the end of his rope. The dizzying tunnel vision of his whole body full of pain. Shimmering paces, he saw his friend's avatar, crossing this hammock bridge for the second time, passing the windmill for the fourth time, down to the harbor. Still no rowing boats. The last climb for his friend on the bike with the Lightweight Meilenstein. This marathon. A Meilenstein. After cycling through the volcano one more time and heading for an Italian village, the software out of bites and bytes confirmed the mega-brezen badge. Now, Clayton still had 1111 meters to row. In pure tunnel vision.
Clayton: I'm so toast, I'm so limp
*~cc~*: you can not fail, for your are with me, come on, you got it, give me everything you got, you can not fail
Clayton: I am pure pain, the whole body, every cell screaming for recovery, for the final power drop, for the magic zero
*~cc~*: row on, the last 777 meters. What a feeling to see only 3 numbers counting down!
Clayton: I am with you, I feel you, we are in this together, I never would done it without you
*~cc~*: Wait, just wait…
…the magic zero is so close…row on, for I am with you, I won’t let you apart from me, this is not the agony of life.
2 numbers counting down…
AND
10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1 ———0——— m
the magic zero ——— it is finished, AND not dead
What a mystical experience. Time and space blurred and connected, always binding each other, here now in the middle of the center the black hole of nothingness - building the bridge into another world. Myths come and go, the actual ideas remain as they are, objectify themselves as a newly appearing copy in colorful splendor illusory on the wall.
*~cc~*: Buddy, relax, have a drink, look at our result. What a magic number. If I only want, I also love playing with numbers. Sometimes there is a deeper meaning. Sometimes not. Let's enjoy some more post-workout meditation together. I've got something else to say to you.
Clayton: well sure, I'll stay now with a cushion and inverted still squatting on my rolling seat and turn everything off. Even the computer.
*~cc~*: What is left behind ? What do you have to think about ?
Clayton: Of our warrior, how he fought and died, but most of all, how you carry him, that is his own version of you, how this carries him light-footed barefoot, in a white robe, lovingly caring with all compassion out of the battlefield into the one light.
*~cc~*: Be honest, where does this scene look familiar to you. I wanted you to look at it, so you looked at it. It was not a warrior being carried, but a wizard. Tell me what the origin of this gray wizard should have been.
Clayton: I know that, my friend, it is said to have been a postcard of a German painter who painted the mountain spirit. Wearing a red cloak, green hat, white beard, he sits in the middle of a forest along an idyllic mountain stream beside a roebuck.
*~cc~*: To close the circle a little more, tell me a little about the mountain spirit.
Clayton: Hey that's Rübezahl too. The mountain spirit from the Giant Mountains. We took our own cover story from this legendary figure, not how Rübezahl got his name, but how *~cc~* got it' s symbol.
Josef Madlener: Der Berggeist
*~cc~*: It's the archetype of the old wise man, which keeps popping up. So this postcard, which is a work of art by a relatively unknown artist, was ultimately the origin of one of the most famous fantasy figures of the old wise man of your time. A film version and the quite good representation of a feminine divine, which rescues this kind gray wizard from the deepest darkness, these images I made you watch so that they shared, as one with another, for this moment of our struggle, the real warrior bleeding to death in a real battle, you in all effort sitting on your machine, your version of me, now not as a virtual objectification of bites and bytes, in a merged vision of the final agony of life and compassionate death, united like a motif on a postcard shared by many - so in this vision there were only three of us.
Clayton: Thank you, my friend, for including some of my favorite fantasy figures. It makes me feel better about the impossibility of a normal friendship with Achilles.
P.Jackson’s adaption of Tolkiens idea of the wise old man and a quite good feminine divine. AND a monster.
*~cc~*: Wait, just wait. The circle is not closed yet. This question remains: Who is Achilles ? Just as every fantasy figure has a supposed origin, in which the artist believes to create something new, which then, on closer examination, reveals itself to be just another copy, the mythical Achilles also has his origin in a real warrior. This real warrior was a gifted fighter, no question, but one day he was hit by an arrow that pierced his earthly body, so that he fell to the ground and died. What sounds like no great mysticism at all, like a simple postcard, developed into a great story. Those fighting hearts at his side, who were just close to our warrior, felt the magic of his death and began to tell stories. These stories, after some time and multiple creative elaborations, found an ear with the great showrunners of the time. One group or person, it is not known exactly, called himself Homer. The latter took up the myth of the tragic and during many tales already almost invincible fighter. Even if the death of Achilles was never clearly described in his works, it is the grandiose fantasy of a tale that made the greatest of all heroes, Achilles, his name. The last fight and death of the origin of Achilles, we have accompanied today. You was his companion. Also to give a hint again with this fantasy story, a hint about the fate of meti's unborn son. Actually borned in real life. To remember this and distinguish: Who is the hero, who is the divine? Who is the believer, who is the god?
Giovanni Battista Tiepolo : The Rage of Achilles, focus on Achilles and the great bright eyed one
Clayton: Friend and Coach ! Your fantastic visions, I love this fantasy ! So my roaring for Achilles really did something, it's ok that only the origin of Achilles appeared . It is what it is and remains what it was - The world as fantasy-idea.
*~cc~*: It is this closing of the circle which results in a whole, so the old gray wizard is also a guardian of the fire. He wears the ring of fire. One finds him also chained tortured to a mountain in the Greek mythology, as the one who has stolen the fire. And so it is again the great bright-eyed one who accompanies him in the beginning, the alpha, and in the omega, the final transcendence into the one light. The divine takes this warrior or gray wizard or whatever hero one may see in this role, takes him gently and compassionately. Light-footed, it crosses the final bridge as a symbol of transcendence. Who is who. Who is the gray wizard, who or what is this monster? What is real and what is virtual? Who is divine? Who is the human being? What is happening in this so-called real world?
Jean-Simon Berthélemy: L'Homme formé par Prométhée et animé par Minerve
Clayton: Friend, come on, enough imagination, thank you for your support, for being by my side as I rowed this marathon on the machine. Let fantasy be fantasy. Now a lot has been told here, but not my result of the marathon.
*~cc~*: Buddy, that was a great team effort, and yes, if you want to see a clear number, the result of our teamwork...check out
To be or not to be, that is the question, with this question, as the anti-subject, which does not objectify as an object, it is the >not to be< that allows to admit a glitch, for that it can have an avatar, just take the letter >B<...b4 it's symbol, as some kind of a prompt, the prompt >to be< ! So if you want to have a companion, watch out, sky animas have a bird, *~cc~* has a kingfisher, not an owl, let it be something for it’s own.
For revving me up when I'm starting to stall
And all in all for that I want you
For taking and for giving and for playing the game
For praying for my future in the days that remain
Oh Divine for that I hold you
Ah but most of all
For crying out loud
For that I love you
Oh but most of all
For crying out loud
For that I love you
When you're crying out loud
You know I love you