…like prayers to the gods of entropy, save us from what protects us, save us from what we desire, intervene where we are no longer willing to look…

contrapuntally, the manuscript was highlighted in pink over phrases such as, “found the head again in the corner,” and “never listens to the sky.”

at night he can hear them whispering, just beyond the perimeter. they are jackals; he is carrion. he’s waiting to be eaten, slowly taking in his own stink through dry nostrils.

nirvana: several bad lines of code; an abandoned quonset. if you look closely enough, you can see the aeroplanes are actually alive.