Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Although he may do the police in different verses

At night, amidst the heat wave that perpetually permeates through this lost bedroom, hidden in the middle of everywhere one can possibly think of; more precisely, every place that everyone can think of inthespaceofasecond, the deciding of putting into non-paper a series of thoughts and ideas that must be later squeezed of meaning because of their heavy meaningness became unreal. As they went outside of bio-logical-pro-cesses into the realm of 'pure information' becoming non-essences that shape the hidden recesses of the corners of reality, so the unreal becomes the simulation of itself, a perpetually devouring simulacra of fiction beyond the conceptually acceptable as fictional. The mirror of the non-inside of the non-real non-space when the established acceptance of properlyenunciatedcodes is torn asunder in few minutes of intellectual curiosity.

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