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
Sunday, February 11, 2018
Linguistic analysis decides: fluid national identity, but we full gross and Americano
There is something there about confession, exhalt we. If you admit to being a terrible person they will forgive you for it. And, then you never have to change, not assimilate at all?
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