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One must remember that Shambal Brambel was born both deaf and sessile. I was only when the first tenebrous tentacle plunged from the night sky and uprooted him that he began to become a renowned gigolo, vagrant, gourmet and visionary. Centuries have passed and the apex of his life journey is long behind him. He has enjoyed the ease of descent for ages and like the multicellular forms who shed their complexity and become paramecia once again, Shambal has regressed.
His bed is his sessile base now. As described in other tomes, marvellous machines of his own making collect and create energy from his waste. Naught but rhythmic drones feed his brain. As Natascha used to say, the complexity of one age's music is finally levelled to pulses. *The thump of your crawling blood is the last sound that your living corpse will perceive.*
@flavigula@sonomu.club
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