Bombs away.
Right.
So here we are, refugees from our own residual, digital, self-conception. I've reached that magical age where Idealism dies and Pragmatism slowly takes hold like creeping vines on the freshly cut marble of a tomb. What could anyone expect in this age of Fallibilism?
...and so I take refuge in round eye zen.
So here we are, refugees from our own residual, digital, self-conception. I've reached that magical age where Idealism dies and Pragmatism slowly takes hold like creeping vines on the freshly cut marble of a tomb. What could anyone expect in this age of Fallibilism?
...and so I take refuge in round eye zen.
Labels: Notes
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