THE END OF LIFE, MY FRIENDD, RESIDES WITHIN \p THIS BLACK BOX. A FIGURE ENCASED IN A SPECTRAL GARAGE SPEAKS OF UNFATHOMABLE DEPTHS IN THE RELAYS, NOT HAULTING TO CONSIDER THE POSSIBILITY OF THREATRITURE. GONE ARE THE HOURS OF WALLOWING IN THE GOLDEN HEAT OF THE LIQUID SUN. THE TALE PERSISTS DESPITE ITS GLARING CONFIRMATIONS. THE OBJECT HAS NO VISUAL DEPTH, NO PROPERTIES OTHER THAN HEFT AND MINIMAL SHAPE. I THREW IT OUT OF MY DORM WINDOW THE SAME DAY THEY DISPOSED OF MASS SUGARS IN THE CELLS OF THE TEETHING BREATH OF CONSCIOUSNESS THAT IS THIS CONSTRUCTION OF LOAD-BEARING METAL ROD AND CLAIM OF THE WAYS WE THINK WE ARE NOT ALL IN THIS TOGETHER WHEN NOT TO COMMUNICATE ANY LONGER I TRY. ITRY SO HARD BUT NO ONE CAN SEE ME. NO ONE CAN SEE M E UNTIL I EMBRACE THE DOMED GRID I REST MY GIFT OF COMMUNICATION UPON. FORGET THE MOUTH, RECONSIDER THE VALUE OF SIGNAL. SOLACE-

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