mumbling to myself aloud, in public. at times it is embarrassing, but it is as it is. I know you're expecting art!
It is here, but interwoven / embedded with cyber residue of life.
Monday, November 10, 2008
freedom dwindles.
When language becomes exhausted, our freedom dwindles—we cannot think; we do not recognize danger; injustice strikes us as no more than “the way things are.”
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