
is was with great relish that the machinations of our psychosis contributed to the isolation of modennity. all thoughts not withstanding, the least of our ideals wander through fields of 20th century wreckage, the sediment spawned on the shoreline of a gentle line ever creeping to the horizon.

the crown jewel of progress...no more than residue from a gunshot, the cerebellum of thought a splayed rorschach on the living room wall. ..

the hand of God at work in the mind of man...

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