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day, bending
under a cloudless seeming sky when I think about it. everybody throws themselves into crisis illusionary stories to illustrate human nature. when I remember that we were a generation that had become immune to the changes we had to endure. when they celebrated because they no longer heard the voices of god in the air. and felt relived when the fire exited the house. to become what we were trained to be. it can't just be a shrug. so Money makes everyone the immortality of a few. money makes everyone the same age at least now time does not discriminate. (we are a different people we record what we can.) At least the art of this next generation will be the best to have ever existed. * "under a cloudless seeming sky" is a line stolen from Tao Lin's novel Taipei.
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