Topological math

From Ollywiki

The rapist in his wheelchair tracks slowly across a continent of frozen filth. My sissy body is riddled with concealed listening devices. I look out the window dreaming of vomit plumes and dimpled yellow fat. Outside is inside. I can prove this with topological math. A baby with stubby wings breaks the sound barrier and disappears up its own anus. The urine-breathed face of someone I don’t know is heavy against my shoulder. Is he dead or just very tired? A lung worm peeks out of his nostril and hesitates a moment before wriggling down into my sleeve. The sun is grey. I am cold. So very cold.