It feels as if I've waited a very long time for this, perhaps my entire life. I seem to be living in three basic states of reality now--waking, dreaming, and writing (which is very much like dreaming awake). I don't seem capable of stopping. I can't imagine life without my wakingdreams. I no longer have a choice; I must continue my toils, struggling onward through the nightmares that fuel my imagination, flailing toward the Complex Darkness. Am I haunted? Yes--I believe so now. Haven't I always been? The metaphor works perfectly: Jake, in THE NEW FLESH, has a dangerous fire within him that he must find a way to express without hurting those he cares about...
"Come and see," the Melting Man says to Jake. Yes--come and see what feels to me like the beginning. Because there may be no way to stop what has already begun…because this is a new nightmare…a new terror…a new Flesh…
"Come and see," the Melting Man says to Jake. Yes--come and see what feels to me like the beginning. Because there may be no way to stop what has already begun…because this is a new nightmare…a new terror…a new Flesh…
