we're watching the photographs burn. chemicals hissing from the fire. gone is the dream of functionality. the thought of it was comical. we layed out our plans like a blueprint. we mapped the route to our success. the outline read like the script to some epic motion. and now we're enshrined in failure. running for our lives and taking stock of the damage. licking wounds with a scalded tongue. trying to speak of some consolation. from a damaged collective unconscious. from white to black to dayglo blue. the journey has had its moments.
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