Eris is my shepherd; I shall not wind up where I expected.
She maketh me to lie down in strange company: She leadeth me under the screwy waters.
She restoreth my soul; she leadeth me in the paths of serendipity for Her name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of inertia, I will fear no greyface: for Thou art with me; thy Chao and thy Hand they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my pineal with chaos; my marbles runneth over.
Surely fives and transformation shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the Original Rorschach forever.

The thoughts that I was trying to assemble into language when this impulse struck will probably come up later. Unless I forget them first.

Plant you seeds.
.

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