This is the post. This is the reckoning. When the children of men dance beneath the timid starlight, then the true feelings emerge. This is the photo dump. This is the unknown rejection. If you design a skyscraper, it will fall. And paints slowly slurp into the gutter. This is as far as I'll go. This is the fire water. This is that digital talking. 00010100 10100100 01110 01111000. Picture and color. Design and randomness. This is the head.
There is no design. Only order.
If I look repeated, deal with it. Lastly
