The Apple of My Eye
How ironic! I press my fingers into sin and tepidly tap. Increasing in mania I loose my compass. Southwards perhaps? Loosing sensibilities and all reason I too become mechanical. More frigid than the luge I am forced down. Gaining momentum and tap, tap, tap. The quick brown fox, indeed! Logs and other shit, indeed! Racial discrimination, indeed! Or credit cards and other ways to whore oneself. I will not sign my name, oh no! Let me evaluate you, accept you, enslave you. Eve was poisoned and deep in debt. Adam was too busy plotting his own suicide for the electricity spikes. Plastic gods, like condoms, break in their thousands, producing more imbecilic irony. Horse shit and other more pleasant smells. Unboxing a meme (improperly used) and an eight year old with a phone. Data charges may apply. The tree of knowledge offers no Wi-Fi.
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