Dream of some destroyed city where everything worthwhile turns to dust when it comes into contact with your hands. Buildings that used to house loving families fall into disrepair. The lonely ruins of businesses and churches stand erect in the scattered fields of debris. Marked men wander about in the distance. At night they huddle around fires drinking and telling their stories. The companionship of thieves, liars, prostitutes, traitors, and trembling junk fiends are all that’s left because the stagnant air of slow death has made this desolate place otherwise uninhabitable.A man in his fancy suit lurks somewhere in the distance, tempting travelers with his false promises. Bright red stars glow in the sky. The man who carries the seal of Satan on his back stands tall during these confrontations, either corrupting the innocent or exposing the hypocrisy of those who might resist him. He leaves little to chance and exercises absolute power in the outskirts of the silent city. The man who carries the crest of all sixs preys on the souls of passing pilgrims and leaves their earthly bodies to wander through this god forsaken place. Foolishly try to ignore the local rumors about the box of souls which the bearer of crest keeps hidden in the jungle like a wooden jack in the box sheltered in a dense grove of palms, but know that it exists. Not only does it exist, but it is surely protected by the crest. Try to ignore the mosquito bites, but know you want to scratch them and that the plagues of malaria and dysentery will soon follow.Fight against the chattering of teeth and grinding of jaw. All the while listening to the blue crickets chirping psychedelic loves songs to the infected sea of toxic waste. Draw crosses over their dilated pupils to keep them from seeing into your soul and wait. Wait to wake up. Wait for your chance to escape and lunge at it head first. Know in your mind that it’s all real. Know in your heart that it’s all wrong. Know, just know, that it is indeed a disturbing universe we live in.