Kollekting Machine by Ray Ogar

>>> COPYRIGHT 1996

the convulsions are getting worse i NIKALIE thought that theyd have gone away by now its been 612s since the last time ive had a treatment id thought definitely that ANNJIA short unusually white hair wouldve come by now to bring the poem thats probably why the physical and psychological aftereffects are continuing im not sure with my health is failing as 01100101010 it is if i will be able to go through with this fugue this for future reference the sekret press had originally hired ANNJIA to procure a kbox her inside konnektion with the gkb gave the sekret press a definite advantage to deciphering the kentral kommittees politikal agenda and the reason behind the kontrol kommissions numerous kboxs sekretariat NILATS had appropriated funds for the produktion of these kollekting machines in 1921 at the time i was attempting to establish a black market information operation in the JORJIA province the kentral kommittee had already 10001011010101010 distributed kboxs to most of the other areas of DARGRAD i remember when they started installing them in JORJIA constantly i would walk the narrow brown streets hearing the banal background noise static 010101001001010100100101001010 continuous onslaught of chaotic information like a precentury victrola rasping in my mind even in the cold nights i could here the infestation of kboxs spitting out 612s of information not knowing at first that their true purpose the kentral kommittees true purpose behind them was to kollekt information not to distribute not to soothe like the mid eastern voices of the south i was fooled we all were fooled until i met komrade TNEGER odd name his origin is not of this province hes NATEBITIAN 1001010001011010101010100101000101101 later i found he was sent specifically to seek me out by the voghemians the revolting poets the aissur underground kommunity i knew my activities were known to very few but i had no idea that the voghemians knew of my meager operation TNEGER said the kommunity knew of me because of the exferhat affair a deep southern cover operation that initially inspired deepstructure poetry 001010101 poetry of this sort being essential to DARGRAD underground communication used by early high collars and long shirts green to pass word about gkb infiltrations information raids early attempts at instituting white noise mind siphoning kbox kontrol i remember the first deepstructure poem i was given 0011111011010 a man briand mesc black buckles leather jacket fuzzy hat pushed into the market line in the early morning cold i had been waiting three hours to get red meat he had whispered into my ear a message a dense string of words mantra like something that would be carried with me something the ear would pick up and transmit directly to the back of the brain but not to be immediately understood by myself consciously the em phrase was red flowers and telephones 612s later an old lady near the wool linen rack spoke the phrase to me and i immediately unconsciously began reciting the message like a child continuously lisping some darkonscious dream after a nightmare 0011000001100 its funny how today the messages are still called deepstructure poetry their original significance during the exferhat affair mostly lost the art of deepstructure poetry is held by only a few thats why ANNJIA is gone shes trying to find an old em phrase to unmake the treatments i underwent 612s ago so much processing so much internal conflict some things i will never know what i really have inside all of my past thoughts their former complexity have integrated like an intricately simple equation into one stream like listening to the many pieces of a bach orchestra eventually the ear integrates all the sounds into a more manageable level heuristic generalization defined nebulosity thats what allows us to discern particulate decide make quick decisions ANNJIAs to bring me an em phrase something to unmake my treatments since id been used as a transport carrier information generator for three months the voghemians compensated me well with a simple very worn 1919 cord three wheel deutsch auto i never used it sits in the warehouse last thing i needed was the gkb black buckles searching it searching for it noticing it for the revolting poets had imparted a new piece of information to me something strictly denied information 01010100100101010100101000 before then i was carrying only surface data i was the infectee receiver of the em phrase now a very new piece of information a core construct something about a kontrolling lever that is something to dampen the information kollektors the kollekting machines supposed noise generators the levers were arriving from the east 111001110 komrade TNEGER had secured a shipment of the small brown lock levers from the orient the far east pacific nation i was to deliver the deepstructure poem to an unknown contact but breeding official reports had connected me with the voghemians and i was duped into the kommittees plans and trapped a mole infiltrated the revolting poets and intercepted me before the real receiver could i was caught immediately tagged and triggered to cyberia that is when the convulsions began that is when the pale young man became my cell mate when the times changed to virtual hell when the rust kollekting machines were used used on my head used to push white noise static hell into my brain random generation fist of binary punch codes taped to my head through electrode alphawave electrodes no escape taped to my head twelve hours on one hour off eventually the codes the binary generation of information hell coalesced into a cacophony of stifled music bocxs they were almost at the point of gaining access pushing into my mind deciphering the message kontrol lever denied information no more until the pale young man cell mate odd stark cell compartment night friend companion of sekret fulfillment slipped to me a carbine a dark slick gun trigger firm i chose self death no more noise no more information hell muyouwat cyberia frozen wastelands of the mind inner sahara of denied information red flowers and telephones no more push of brain binary code white noise in attempted suicide failed pietas devotion to my responsibility to hold back information failed information i knew not to exist deepstructure poetry plucked from my mind by fingersnapping black buckle leather jacket gkb politikal agenda kontrol kommissioner receding black hair little glasses goatee small mustache kbox mind rapist gone information gone pietas destroyed saving unnecessary now revolting poets done voghemians done suicide unnecessary but i wanted the pale young man in the compartment there to oddly satisfy my physical need want ANNJIA saved me 01010001011010101010100101000 helped me sekret press paid her to purge me from cyberia why was i retrieved red flowers and telephones was the key to the problem i was told some portion of the true deepstructure poem was not got 001011111111110 the revolting poets were of course raided because of the surface information i did have but that is why it is named deepstructure certain pieces of knowledge cannot be got but the convulsions continue ANNJIA purged me killed the pale young man my lover deadshot maroon hole in his head innocent boy she said my perversion was wrong said she could satisfy me now i mentally disagreed no matter information hell no longer here brain binary code white noise generator no longer retching into my mind building wastelands of stark void kollekting machine labels of future predisposition ANNJIA at my side convulsions 101000001010101 010010010101001001010010100101000 101000101010100101000101101010101010010 1000101010101001001010100100 10100101001010001010001010101001001010 0101010010101010001010 10101001000 0001101010 101001010010101101 00111010 0100101011001 01010010010101010010100 010110101010101 001010000101000101 01010010010100101010010101 0100101001010110010101001001010010 10010101010100100101010010010100 101001010 0010100010 1010100100101001 01010010101010010010001 101010111010010101100101010 01001010101001010001011010101010 100101000101010101 001001010100100101001 01001010001010001010101001001 0100101 01001011001000110101011101 001010110010 101001 00101010100101000101 1010101010100101001 accompanying me at every moment no more treatments from 612s ago now taken care of by the sekret press though the kentral kommittee still wants me kontrol kommission sekretariat NILATS sending personal leather jacket black buckle boot men after me ANNJIA protekts me she is away for the moment finding the em phrase old em phrase to purge the kinoptic virus residue left in my brain something to make me not want to look at the bullet hole in my head and wish it really did rid the state of me denied information i need a deepstructure poem to sedate my mind red flowers and telephone mystique in the form of black slick carbine to hold to my temple and release the denied information pressure stream of oppressive white noise predisposition of future kollekting machine label ANNJIA finally returns bag in hand large brown bag her odd short hair reminding me of the young man comfort in compartment mud tears in her eyes she drops the bag on the floor thousands of tiny minuscule kollekting machines pour out so much dust in the fabric of 1010101 01001010 0010101010 10010010101001001 01001010010100010100 01010101001001010 01010100101010100101 00011010110101 100010110101010100 11101010001001010 100100101010000 0010101011101001010 01010101000110 101001110010 10001 11010101001010 0100110 1001010001010 100010110 01110101001110100 01101001110010010010010110 101011010011101000110 101011101001 010110010101001 00101010100101000101 101010100010101001010101 000010101100101010110100111 010001101010110101011010 01110100011010101110 1001010110010 1010110010101 010010100010110101 01010100101000101 010101001001010100 1001010 01010010110101010100100 101010 0100101001010010100 0101000101010 1001001010010101 0001110100 011 01010111100 my sight no hope i fear no hope these new dust particle sized kboxs frighten me i grip the carbine at my side level it sighting down the phallic black shaft quick aim last glimpse of woman overlaying young man comfort in compartment as gun is fired on ANNJIA she dies white noise aftershock begins again em phrase gone not found no hope seeing trillions of these new kboxs dust particles piled on 010010101011101010 101000111000001101010 110101110110100111010010 101011010011101000110101100100 1010 0101010 01010 101001010110110 the floor theyre everywhere infiltrating for the state no outlet no hope they can be anywhere now they are everywhere now kollekting machines in the walls in clothes in food in the body in my stomach in the intestines in the brain spasm convulsion of my pain sears my lungs spitblood cough i breathe in hard motes of the kbox dust enters my nose now penetrates my mind wasteland of whitenoisepast i am now the receptacle of these perfect kollekting machines gun static 11001110001 011101010101 0101010101101 10110100 111010101000100111010101 00100101010 01101001111001010101010 11 001010100101