Superpositions in altered conditions are the altar of the modern thinker. New distinctions, distinct ions, pry in pry on. If the übermench must be unmentioned and it’s sacrelige to cut the tension then something reels back rubberbanding; cyclical as it’s demanding: you must this and musn’t that, these words are real as they are fact. So much nonsense makes no sense, reeling fishes like they’re presents in a presentation, harsh recital brash incantation. Sounds like phonemes might be phoney make believe a newfound story.
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