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November 5, 2020
Dripping off the radar with a clever burst of conscientious ignorance, such displays of arrogance, that you should become invisible at will. Nothing hampering the devices we call our means of connection that keep us tethered to a base of reality shifting without warning, tying us down to expectations that have no buoyancy, so grim are the faces. They can't see shit for their pride of seeing anything at all. We slip by. No one made contact with anything, and that's a relief. Should the reaper come, we wouldn't have anything to confess. A mute rat is a good rat.