An orderly took me to t ed doors.  to carry me because I could scarcely h. his eyes were feral, wild, scarcely human.

    quot;A; says t in a great good ;Your memory is playing tricks on you!quot;

    y, received me in a vast, ecravagant tapestries. I retain only t confused recollections of its exterior but I knoly  is a maze of cells like took a t ill bundled around my s into an incinerator. to me: quot;As of t moment you in t impulse of my o disappear from it.quot;

    But le ted as o tion of forms, ends to erode my sense of being by equipping me iplicity of beings, so t I confound myself s, presents and futures.

    I am eroding, I am roked as smootone is by ts t  to make up my uniqueness fall apart as apes of my memory and makes itutions. For, if my first capture incorporates  ruins t do not yet exist and my second capture resonates oo many ec  moving capture migulate a Middle-European nigold me by a complete stranger during train journey. For sometimes I cannot believe Ive suffered so much.

    If only I could remember everytly, just as it  burden of my past, I should be free.

    But in titute tess or Female Pope. t o  terrible red dress t reminds us all, every time , of t of ourselves   h of an oracular cave.

    arot Game, Madame Scs on a small ts special book, t ed beam in e apartments; t up and spread it out on o mimic her sex, which is also a forbidden book.

    tarot Game is like t medieval princes performed on te marble ceam in black a