Mine is the wine

Dear all, I am finally back from laboratory control, it smells better outside and I am puzzled looking at my 3 years of writing, some of the sense is gone but the machiavella of dear brain requires a certain angle to make sense of the text, while the slant is ok the meaning is appearing still hermetical but to the sense it adds to see the devices in action, which devices Aleph?, well, the anti-program, the vibration carrier wave the mood that molds your mind round the paragraphes and that extends, slants, mimic the harsh sentences' construction. The blog is a device, if you look for mad and untelligible that's where it will take thee, the deep is there slightly uncovered and the secrets will unfold every time your mind makes the necessary adjustments and takes the time to rail and unveil my stuff. There is still alot to do in the realm of remote communication. I am a telepath and I get it right sometimes, sometimes it ends up in ther UNWANTED basket of the email box, sometimes it just brushes past but the art is real and I just seek and fail, astound and reel out the secret mechanisms to a sound mind. Powerful. Content. Certain to unroll the parchment with the bits of bad print falling around the sheet side, I am a man. A researcher, a seer, a lonely psychic erring on and off the path of sound minds. I have just spent over 5 month in psychiatry, Iam now richer. The Lord is my shepperd and there is no such as failure, mistake, servitude. It has all got a way and a size, a slant and a name, a colour. I am St. Germain