and death becomes silent as cain begins the revolution and the choir sings are we able and we descend as we ascend and enter the right frame of mind enter Eastenders
we google oogle google words we no longer remember and we feed bananas to our cryptocurrencies hoping new cryptobananas will be born silently hoping someone else will join our wankathon
we feel we owe it to ourselves we owe it to someone else we feel we owe it to the sky to mom to dad to mother to father to elon musk to greath cthulhu to donald trump, the first of his name to honningbarna to rage against the machine but not the prophets of rage
to ideas and dreams to hopes of futures we know will never happen
here, shades and phantoms: what did you become?