InDent.

I am, more or less, one known to rummage in linguistic rubble.
Yes, a deconstructionist of language, and a constructor of the linguistic.
the lingual circus under the tent of palate.
the heightened sense, that is..

Palate, palate. Place trapped
between the heart and the brain,
oscillating in dissonance to the vesicular pulsations
like those "vascular tensions" punned by medicinals, undetectable, ghostly.

One, that is in truth only known to hem aliases, hers and hims.
Hem her aliases under her sleeve, with only her conscience ironed on the surface, and her hearted thoughts to shadow the creases.

I like to collect language, dialects, dictations, and transcriptions, but I also possess the utmost tendency to tear the pages out of those placable, sorry-sat books. Maybe they just lack motion, that soul spoken in my mind. That psychosomatic force.

I am lured by the books, but I only wish they could read to me the transdimenional occurences in the moment of their conception, and the orchestral fusion of the senses left behind in the memory of their fetal life.

So you see mes amis, I am here to perform my journal of travel, not to document but to tell, and to project my retinal revelations. Fear not, for I will train and tame my words to love sense and sequence, only for the sake of some remnant preservation of Vienna to last in the memories of others as well as my own. The intrinsic water will be delivered from the whimsical well, and sometimes, a literal literary demon may flood it to a mute.

If anything,
may you let these words deceive you not
for you will be de-livered and levered from ta viande et ta vie
to visual escapism, that will not cease or displease you.



I give you a little introduction to a new growing identity set to arrive on the sixteenth of this month, Elice Fidelis.
For now, I sign by


Retina Traine.
Also by Dalia Todari Mikha'il, if you may.

PSST: further page customization to come.