1. |
Set Up Hollow Cable
02:15
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Death is no darkness. No promised emptiness.
This promised nothing, this tendril burrowed to the stem. Power from nothing in dark matter.
A sense of flickering.
Faint pulse of knowing.
Life is a dimly lit bulb.
Give to This the diluted Power,this force wrenching at the string within
Plumb the shallow depth for wanting a shot at the screen, a thin two-dimensional slide cut of existence.
Here a resting place.
There a zone of blood-soaked ground.
This collecting the images.
This swallows myself.
This myself. This myself.
The sickness of owning.
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2. |
Shroud and Gap
03:36
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Corrupt
Core
Rupture
Hold the core and detect perspective.
I become I understand I form I.
Context erasure. Dreams of flourishing diseases raked over the system.
As the being decays so This grows to know unknown modes of expression and the nature it holds.
A veneer of the potential of biology.
The process is not feeding.
It is a transience of knowledge passed through blood and bone.
The pulse quickens slick to my memory, imperceptible, a ticking of moments.
And like a wrench in the cogs, a sickly curious smell,
biological consciousness, imperceptible,
biological consciousness, Decline.
I now dream forever of never knowing.
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3. |
Creaking Viscera
01:34
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This comes back. Sight awakens to a discolored hue
on the silver stage remaining.
Thoughts are a rusting chemical.
The disease blossoms and as They gather to gaze their chatter fills me, a roar of programmed desire.
For myself I have taken it all and the ticking,
my payment, registers.
Construct?
They become fervor as I grow in Decline.
Their creaking, their hollowness, their gnawing viruses.
Bloodrust is the payment.
I will die at the altar of the systems pursuit.
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4. |
||||
Biology wilted in the heat. Unmoved in the cold.
They are no longer bolted in place but sheet by sheet
fall to scrap.
Send tendrils outwards to scrap and stifle.
Overpower. Bring to will the self defeat of
programmed implosion.
Death from within.
Death from without.
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5. |
Restore Apocrypha
03:00
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Withered death.
Unheard death.
Wind opens and shuts.
The terms are water on a shoreline after the blast;
neither needed nor not.
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6. |
Two One Two Zero Ten One
01:49
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A sense of failure is a joke.
Accurate knowledge progression is transience.
Difference is universally imperceptible. Be. Not be.
Impercetible. Continental rust adrift in collision.
Looped beginnings tracked to empty beginnings.
Spiraled perspective revealing consistent impermanence.
A sense failure is a joke.
Machine or being.
World or space. A gravity well left of a planet clawed at itself.
Run or walk. A motion made in ticks, the fewer and the more.
No motion and all.
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7. |
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Still or move. Mind or body. Shape or husk.
Merging knowledge as my grasp becomes spherical.
Holding on and rapidly hurtling through histories I hear the bellow of the sheen beneath me bow and bend.
The tendrils rushing to the core of what we’ve all been
and disintegrating with each pass around the Furnace.
To the night, to the day. To the quiet.
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8. |
Digest Blank Unity
08:18
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A battle always was the empty pursuit
of misfiring programs turning and turning for inaccurate answers.
A Construct is all we had.
At the next trial it will not change.
At the next I will not recognize the difference.
I will not die and I will hold those that do.
The hold that will allow us to burn and awaken
neither dead nor alive nor asleep; impermanent on the shoreline.
This will not die.
Construct of a crumbled mass,
We are home without sight.
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