Hands filigreed with one hundred pale white lines. Scars of old age and wire-cuts. Rusted strings laid down for another; not reluctantly. The comfort of softly drowning in black-and-white numbers and emotional designs. Retreating from the world of fleshware robots. Clockwork oranges with poor code. Off-hand remarks explain everything when the words are pulled apart.
10:47 a.m. - 2018-12-17
Recent entries:
Shooting Off - 2018-12-31
Blockface - 2018-12-25
- - - - - - - - - - 2018-12-20
Distor-Bit - 2018-12-20
Re-up - 2018-12-20
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
As-I-know-it
Nicim
Breathe-Salt
Swordfern
Star-Brite
Swallowthkey
ATwoWayDream
HumHum
Secret-motel
AndWeBreathe
MovingSands
WeAteTheSea