BEFORE TRAVELING WEST

Welcome to 8r8kspider.

I was asked to write this little memorandum because I traveled the Westbound path myself, and frankly, I shouldn't have. This we8 of narratives is designed to push the limits and challenge the perception of the one engaging with it - that's you, for the record - and I think it's worth giving you a vague idea of what you're in for. There's no shame in turning around and walking away from this place if you know it'll hurt you.

Let's start with the big disclaimers.

Now that we've gotten the disclaimers out of the

???ffffffffffffffffffffffuckingstupid   Where is it, Where is it,

way, here's a list of things you might encounter to the West that you may find disquieting or disturbing.

Content warnings







This place is a message, and part of a system of messages

THE NETWORK HEARS YOU, ANGEL. KEEP MOVING.

DEATH BEFORE YOU LET THEM CLIP YOUR WINGS


I have given up, yet I still dream of it
And in my dreams, I find myself staring into names and faces that I had heard there, in the most hideous of connections -
The Wall, Grace in all Her dread, the We8 of Lies, Dreamo, Outer West, the Curator, the Lady Loveletter, Veau, "8eforus", the twin Truants, GAIAnet and the Builders anterior -
and I am drawn back through nameless aeons and inconceivable dimensions to worlds of elder, outer fiction-fact at which the crazed authors of Zampanio had only guessed in the vaguest way
and for those few moments, I am once again the girl I saw in that wondrous slumber
Skipping rocks over the pond of a world she had left behind,
a world I had left behind,
and o, catharsis may well wait around the corner, in that sleepless dream
To shake my hand and show me a realm in ester and neon
hoping I may chase it, under the light of echoing stars.





Along the shore the co8alt 8r8ks
The twin moons sink 8ehind the lake
The shadows lengthen
Through the West Door.


Strange is the night where 8lue stars rise
And angels circle in the skies
8ut stranger still is
The far West Door.


Musicals that the wand'ring sing
Where lay old dreams of 8all-joint wings
Must die unheard in
The lost West Door.


Song of my soul, my dreams lie cold;
Die thou, unsung, as truths untold
Shall fall silent in
My dead West Door.


I III II II I III I I III II









Thank you for reading this disclaimer. Continue on, if you must, but always remember. Fiction has teeth.

I had my chance. But you've got to wake up from a dream eventually.

And God help you if you keep dreaming for too long.