A cruel Ryuji Takeuchi attrition sequence grinds away near endlessly. Any sort of “either way” reaction is quite impossible to fathom. Sure that “Ambivalence” isn’t real anymore. Real is self-imploding a rotating rush to rot. Rate the pattern advances. Rate the speed degrades. Material vaped. The sky burns. Deposit seared at point and place of terrestrial reentry. Resting clump of scrap in an obliterated state. You can’t make out the markings meanings. Things fall to earth at 25,000 MPH, or at whatever BPM this is. From Instruments of Discipline.
[Visit full site to view media]One's Sentiment by Ryuji Takeuchi