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
Wednesday, October 25, 2017
at some point a distinction, this cold, hard rock against my body
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out in it and we keep hearing you
like, fuck it all, neoliberalism personified
i feel underappreciated in your presence, and fat.
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