Many tellings of the doings and beings of the world natural and unnatural cover high and far and ever onward, yet others more cover downward and back and ever further delving within. Few however encompass the timings lost to us as they slide right and western in a sideways motion so otherly parallel to our own understanding. Within these pages is but the scattered and confused remembrance of one who gazed upon the horizontal line of history and gleamed much telling and seeing from within it all. I take no pride in my writing as the withered red within my maw flaps incessantly all throughout and these grasping appendages of mine are taken to wandering off into the strange and convoluted phrasings of a world most foreign yet familiar.

          Do not take some for as the bald face they may appear, and yet others are obvious and easily known. Your own grays cannot comprehend all that sits stirring amid mine own cavern of echoed self, so take heed and know that there is hardly a single way about taking in the things that recline easily with the ink and the parchment.