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Dog sits inside the windowsill. The night is an onyx-gold canvas. The shapes could be islands or lakes. Not everything you see or read is true. Sometimes geometries are fantasies. You should have let him go. Here what remains is fully distributed entropy. The arrows point in many possible directions. This diagram in real life indicates Miracle Of Anarchy. We cannot help it; how we see what we see / the gestures, sounds, words, we turn to promises then lies. i want to end the things that vanish properly. All objects in the situation, had re-arranged the pattern of their constellation.


Schon wieder dieses Gottverdammte Drönen. Mein ganzes Blikveld ein Albtraum von Riesenfliegen. Er hat von ihr alle Facetten & Aspekten, im Gedanken; ihr Körper faltet sich in Wiederholungen, ihr Stimme: Katastrophe, ihr Wissen ist Extrem . Sie kennt den Untergang von alle Bilder-Dingen. Von jeder Ereignis den fata morgana mise-en-szene. Es ist so nah. Es tut so Weh. Alles was leuchtet brennt. Hund sitzt in das einzisgte offene Fenster. Gardinen sind weiss & unsichtbar brennende Flammen. Die Ehrlichkeit von Feuer verwandelt Antworten in Fragen. “This world has been and will eternally be living on the rhythm of fire. . . This is the functioning of the eternal world breath.”


This is the night of broken colour. This is the shadowless Tower of Light. Inside there are no entrances, exits, gradients. Around the corner is not far. That world is flat as canvas, or pixelated cloud of fabric, in every detail, done. Dog has begun to understand (among the reasons for this, are; The Magic Surfaces, The Miracles of Light, Rhythm of Fire, The Horizontal Vertigo, The Honesty of Questions. All this encoded in planes of endlessly self-similar geometry.

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