fyn gula "don't wake me up, i plan on sleeping in."

~postal service from 'sleeping in' off 'give up'

untitled track #2 of the sigur ros record, (), provided the soundscape for what was next with the frafkuel's film, a slide show effect, which featured one image dissolving into the next, all of them dealing with an infant developing in the womb.

there were instances when nothing but the eyes, nose, and mouth of the growing fetus filled the screen, the maxi-zoom revealing a thin layer of down on the velvety face as it floated in the tranquility of uterine space. other times still images portrayed the unavoidable similarities humans share with various mammals. when a lengthy amount of footage was highlighting the flow of nutrients from mother to child within the shiny serpentine of the umbilical cord, it was then that the frafkuel spoke, voice-over narrartion style:

"from the moment we are conceived, we are utterly dependant on others for survival. our infant growth is determined and reliant on a mother's nutrient-rich blood flow from the placenta. pregnancy is our first link that hooks us to the endless chain of humanity."

as the three wolf-men gazed up at the prenatal images, one in particular reminiscent of the classic shot of the thumb in mouth that graced the cover of LIFE magazine shocking the world with a first look inside the womb, frafkuel dispiacere bent down and removed something from the leather satchel at his feet.

moments later, three paper airplanes were airborne and one by one landed in front of cayris, poj, and keggi respectively, sliding to a smooth landing on the wooden tabletop in front of them.

"unfold them if you will," the frafkuel said. the film continued and then the poignant music faded to a pause. the screen went to grey.
"it is your first keepsake message. read it and then tattoo it on the skin of your soul."

the three obeyed and simultaneously undid the paper folds of the intricately prepared aerodynamic wonder. the paper was a firm bond similar to bristolboard but not as stiff. written with an azure soy crayon by the hands of italian schoolchildren the proclamation read:


cayris shut his eyes for a moment, translating it to english.
"we need each other." he sighed, realizing that the frafkuel was setting fire to his soul, burning him down to the foundation where he intended on rebuiding him step by step. he looked up at dispiacere and could feel tears welling up hot and uncomfortable in his eyes. he strained hard to keep them from falling.

poj shook his head and winced. keggi, unimpressed, dropped the paper to the table.
"when is that fucking waitress bringing my potatoes?" he asked. "i'm starving!"
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