Intro.. ...Back Draw... ..Along Poems.. ...More But I don't know how I'm doing it. There is a way and I found it. I tried: a billion times: and I succeeded: then I couldn't repeat the success for a long time: but I kept trying and I succeeded again. And then again and again - like an old luthier: who cuts the back of a violin with one stroke - yes - blood helps. And fear. When I hunted innocent users: I looked for these two things in their dreams and modeled beautiful personal netherworlds around them. I decorated them with the hot flowers of secret desires and repressed weaknesses and threw them in the land like enticing traps: which then remained there with the slain souls to glow cursedly - like fantastic pagan tombs - to glitter with the matte sheen of sacrificial weapons and to call the death for glory. Of course - it was a lengthy and monotonous journey. For a very long time: they were just harmless caricatures: ridiculous attempts: unrealized aspirations and twisted efforts. But one morning: the first woman's death screams echoed across the land: and the first unlocked door appeared on my Palace of a Thousand Pains. It changed colors: spread fragrances: whispered: "come closer darling: grab the silver handle: open - your wildest imagination will be surprised: it will be amazed - it will be brought to its knees!" As in the ancient days of my materiality: I did not want to let extraordinary courage and will to survive go unappreciated: and between the spikes and flames of each trap I incorporated a small emergency brake: which (with one exception) no one ever found and pulled. Most people don't really want to live. If I had managed to keep the gluttony and expandability of my oeuvre within the limits of accidental killings - its sharp towers would still rise into the mists of c-heaven. And my second mistake was: that I did not resist and set trap for a genie. And I succeeded.