we are the mockingbirds of thanatos, singing canaries of eros in the poison mines of the hivemind

[xk8tx]

those of us that  (even unconsciously) relish nonhuman vocalizations are naught but mockingbirds of the machine-body, echoing and reproducing its sonorities, resonances, glimmers and glitches- possessed by the sometimes erratic but oft bio-rhythmic pulsations of our coerced or desire-procuded environs  while  all the while suspended in trellis-

Comments

[anonymous]

lemme borrow that abstraction!

i wanna borrow it!