I've been following my attraction, wandering (and wondering) around the marks of the compass. I have been west of south and north of east, but always facing slightly to the left of north. While I was somewhere east of west, I stumbled upon a land because I was looking the wrong way. I had tripped over a tree, and landed in a factory, where Twiggy could have stood on the wall, but didn't. I painted it. I painted Twiggy where she could have stood and I painted Angela Merkel where she couldn't possibly, but did anyway. Everything was facing just left of north, one way or another. There was no rules there except the way to face. It's always ignorant facings that bring this town down! How it came to stay I do not know. The box of colour should have fallen over 13 months before, but it seems to want to stay for more.
There were some stylish kids, and they were rioting in the town of Woninten, painted on the northwest wall. They were rebelling against themselves, as they had become too stylish to be a counter culture. But I gave them the plus and the minus and they then felt liberated.
In Bringmintenner, nobody voted, and everybody spoke in unison. “Unless it's worth co-ordinating a group of speakers for, it's not worth saying,” they all said. They violently rejected Democracy.
Bluehead Ballet was run by Bluehead, and featured, mainly, Ballet. He was a free soul with an opposite attraction. His ladies didn't belong to him, but to each other, united in the aim to serve his Art, since his Expulsion after the trials in Tring, England. They were attractive, without trying to be.
In the distance I could see a castle, in the mountains. It looked like what my factory could be, but wasn't. A piece of the factory ceiling fell to the floor just as I saw.
To the stars or to the bottom of the river.
Sleep lives in the West, with her false easterly wisdom and damp liberty.
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