Envision an endless torrent of acid falling down from the future towards the past, disfiguring, mutilating, and destroying every truth that isn't protected by popularity, by secrecy, by institutional continuity, by obviousness or banality.
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When a library burns it's like cutting the cord that holds up the sanity of every soul whose truth was contained therein. I wish for nothing more than that, on the eve of the inauguration of the first ancestor simulation, every lost text should reveal itself from safe hiding.
8:11 PM - 25 Aug 2019
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