dr speichelstreicher
its the 194th consecutive night dr speichelstreicher sits in his basement brooding over the very same thing. chaotic scenery on a candle-lit bureau: feathers, stones, wood, inky tissues, glass, an abacus and a globe. whiskey. herbal snuff powder. lemonade.
dr speichelstreicher studies his thing from all angles known to him, changing perspective to his best knowledge, questioning his questions and questioning his answers. yet he fails to make conclusions satisfactory enough to publish his findings. his neighbours think him mad, his colleagues find him amusing, his son has moved to patagonia.
dr speichelstreicher studies his thing from all angles known to him, changing perspective to his best knowledge, questioning his questions and questioning his answers. yet he fails to make conclusions satisfactory enough to publish his findings. his neighbours think him mad, his colleagues find him amusing, his son has moved to patagonia.
dr speichelstreicher: what is it made of. where does it originate from. why did it find me. what is the meaning. how do i establish contact. is it alive. can it be born again. will my discovery grant me scientific honors. will it destroy me and steal my soul. can i keep it in a cage. do i save it as a file. is it a bug. is it an angel. is it anything known to wo/man. how can i be sure that i see it. is it a hallucination. is it a drug. does it make me happy. give me purpose. does it corrode my innerness. is it attractive. is it fascinating. am i being fed a line. can i catch it. or will it vaporise when i touch it.
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