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Half past



The death-birth of the eternal moment?

Our tattered stories, twisting, turning, in the endless winds of entropy?

Oscillation between complementary binary states?

A determined march into the inevitable?

The merciful decay of dreams into loss into memories into forgetting and darkness?

A meaningless procession of irrelevant accidents?

Thesis, antithesis, synthesis?

Something to kill while we wait out our lives?

Space twisted by gravity?

The chains by which our machines enslave us?

The more we have the less there is.

From → unclassified

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