Nothing Less Than The Sound Of Footsteps
Condensing İnto A Shape.
Sneaking İnto The Murky Urban Café³ Of Crispy Mornings.
Realized İt Was A Mirror After Hours Of Work. They Are Filth.
And Also Easily Lost İn The Labyrinth Of The Theory Of Their
Own Art - This Easily Percepted. Within The 4 Years
Of Rain İt Became My Own Microscopic Macondo. It All Meant Little, İf
Nothing What İs The Frase I Look For... Chaotic Dementh.
Ah Yes İndeed. Been There Before, Fair Lady? A Copper Medal I Won
At The Chill-Kill That Day: Putrid Run, Salt... Torment,
Thirst. Two Fierce Feasting Parties Wishing Me Warmly Welcome İn
The Aftermath Of Their Own Cold War. Neo-Colonialistic Freaks,
Says I. Tempers İncrease To Hatred And Vanish - İn Cataleptic
Disorders. An Apparatus Of Something, Don T Really Know What,
Remnant Of The Good That Succumbed İn Man Once? The Absolute
Legion Of Oddity. Now Guess What İn The World Machina Mimesis İs?