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People of the land You do not know what peace looks like you haven’t swum or swam you haven’t breathed liquid forgive my impudence but you don’t know a damn about the softness of silence of the release of the bated breath I would invite you down to the murky waters where peace is drawn and quartered where there is nothing but the commonplace terror of the endless endless where the end is a means i truly would invite you if I could for my mind is savage but I have no jurisdiction there allow me hence to beautify the moment outside its suddenness a 4am unlockment a glimpse into the infinity the horrible triteful glory of cheap revelations the horrible divinity of existence the horrible horrible divinity and the horror, the utter utter horror of thankfulness “Nothing had changed, Everything had changed” The moment where my nemesis, that grisly master God attempts to forgive me and I shamelessly accept his forgiveness in order to strengthen my atheism in order that I can reconfigure everything that comes after away from the preexistent bending to restore my effortless guile my thanklessness, derision oh what joy to feel empathy once again that pointless hypocritical feeling the situation away from the baseness of level zero nudity to fuck fuck fuck fuck under wraps gloriously like a rabbit babbitt like Bataille Bataille Bataille like Chughtai Chughtai Chughtai to ephemeralise like an artist oh what joy what utter joy what salvation oh my oh my to momentarily concede to the dervishes the mystics before using up the rapture to set foot on land again to be ironic and dismissive once more what peace what peace away from water the invisible air of peace filling our lungs with normalcy you don’t know what that peace looks like you landbourne fuckers you sceptics, my kin













