November 28th, 1861

The mother of all whores and trials lay before.

And she is

gone.

Gone!
Gone in an instant! Gone no more!
More?
But who?

But. Butt!

Yes.
Chambers?
Yes!

It comes in folds and flips it's patterns. It's above me and below me. Chambers. Blow me. Yes, but no in this house. This house of ill repute. These Chambers of ill repute. I laugh. And laugh and laugh and laugh.

Lo, there is no pain.

Chambers.

I sac chambers!

Is my time at an end? Will they catch me this time? Chambers?

But who cares? There is no pain. My life is shit. Chambers. There is no pain. Dad spoken with not in days. Or weeks. Does it really matter? Chambers. There is no pain. I lay with Chinamen. Chinawomen, really. Does it really matter? Are we all not the same? There is no pain. Have we all not been through the same change of chains. Chains of change. Chain. Change. Pain. Champains. Fuck it. Does it really matter?

I don't know what I'm talking about.
Chambers.
There is no pain and I'm about to fall to sleep.

Mother of all whores. We Are At War With Ourself! How could this shit happen? Chambers! Why did we do this to us? Fuck! Is this the end? Are we to be fucked? Chambers?

Death!

Death? Around me?

I am Chambers and I am not trapped in these Chambers.
I'm not as funny as I think I am.

My lowercase god of absence, let the Opium flow through me. Flood me. Chambers. Flood me, Chambers. Flood me Chambers. Flood me with opium. There is no reason to go on. There is no pain. Champ pain. Hamp Paign.

Fuck it all. Fuck It All! There is no
What?
Hell
Chambers
Fuck
Happy Thanksgiving you employers of cock.







Chambers