a project of skill-less and dead-author labor turned dead-text turned dead-reader, love
affair with space, some cloud to influx information without regard for human eyes. &poetry
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
something sudden like blown glass, ain't that some bullshit
More human than human.
Something that looks like a flower, but is not, and Hello, placard holder,
never as good as, like, not-real, and they admit it, evens. *w/e earth*
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