ξïdoloch (2025) by AFTERVOLTER - Irving Paul Pereira

ξïdoloch

A report by the fifth being of QIÏLŌPTH. City of CYTOXCIS,

At 0700 hours, on the 13th day of the year 2104. CYTOXCIIAN arch-medics lost contact with my psyche's signal during cycle 2 of my treatment for central nervous system deterioration.

In my disconnection and drift, sustained by some kind of mystical grace, I was brought by a great sentient train to a realm it called ξïdoloch, or zeitgeist of ‘the eight rooms’

I had become a child again, unsick, standing in a brutalist hall before a grey father figure whose body was full of static and hazy rhythmic blood movements. “This is mortier’s house”, I was told by a gnome who had become my guide in this alien realm.

There were other ‘machine nomes’ present; three footed, dwarf-like humanoids who spoke like arcade game machines. There was a vortex of signals and drunkenness, cartoonish and foolish forms turning into clusters of sounds.. They danced around the lanky, bald old man like disabled spiders.

The elder gave me crushed crystals to drink, to breathe, to taste. In their atomic structures were organic computer systems. The strange nomes cried into the powder on my fingers. I consumed and was taken through the eight rooms, as if simultaneously.

I don’t know how long I was away.

Everything was a blur of merged scenes and hypnagogic trance states and rituals.

I recall enchanted forests, I believe from my childhood dreams. There were scenes and sounds of war from other dreamers but without the bloodiness or violence. It was determined and victorious, as if the end of days, when The Lord arrives with thundering sword and white horse and fire that issues from His mouth.

There was carnage and celebration.

I then became an ancient book, crumbling pages that old people and children consumed for their skin conditions. My organs were projecting walls of sound that swept through gardens where the terminally ill were laid, then rose as the white noise carried them upwards.

There were naked and deformed people dancing in concrete rooms cast in blindness, bodies of light and flesh flickering to odd time signatures and battle drums and crackling pulses that broke black stones trapped in veins and hearts and intestines.

There were fairytale daydreams and mystical streams that lead me to impossible seas.


(after three days and three nights) The arch-doctors of CYTOXCIS could finally make contact with me. And I was brought back to waking state. I am still unsure if I'm happy, returning to this place. But my vitals have somehow improved, I can feel my fingers again, i can taste food again, something in me has changed.

I can feel the ‘noms’ climbing up and down my spine.

I can hear them giggling, dancing and Juggling sunlight.

I think i have brought a world back with me. Ξïdoloch. The Eight rooms.

I turn to my brothers and sisters of QIÏLŌPTH,watch them in their cryogenic chairs, somehow knowing they are each, in some way, one of the rooms, one of the worlds.

===

A ‘list of events’ as carved into a rock on a hill, as witnessed by the fifth patient of QIÏLŌPTH during her ξïdoloch episode.


mortiers'house
don't
neuralis syndrome
haedroden
nome comm
nome movf
nome trance
volome hunt
night animals feeding ampheng
larvosia
nome passage
nome transit
nome comm II
battalia
nome ceremony
nome trance ii
cyrriad threshold
###

"@irvingpaulpereira aka @aftervolter ‘s sound is a cryptographic puzzle that intimates the existence of all things etheric. Discomfiting, elusive and otherworldly. Paul’s invocations tune the synapses, static swarms abound, rewiring our brains to tap into subtler energies. Beyond the dust reveals subtle terraforming of a complex architecture. - XUE @ https://endlessreturn.bandcamp.com

ipaulpereira.com
Facebook
Pereira Irving Paul