..
....
...
.

It's a crackle 
of three 
point five 
thousand
revolutions per minute.

Bent alluminium scratching the carbon wings.
I can hear it too. Last call of a dying
machine. No silk branches or yellow stems
will grow from the rusted ports anymore.

DEATH OF THE INTERNET   Coming back breaks
  2024-07-07     RELAY   bones every time.
                    CAT   Often there lies some
                         inate desire to 
                        overcomplicate things -
to circumvent emotions and pragmatise over the
material reality of temporality. 

The year of immense loss beyond 
imagination. And in an almost 
stupefying endeavor to follow
the creative calling I find 
myself cursing the name of
the program that brought
us all together in the
first place. 
Not to
blame it 

cat(1)

  /
 /$\

to praise it.


Gimme gimme gimme a hacker after midnight.
Hack me through the darkness till the break of the day.

Tape over the linkerror, 'doka, because, hacker,
your revolution will not be paid for in dirty change.


How to assassinate a gophernaut:

''''''''''\,'
''''',''''
'''''.''
;''


And the technomancer waves 
their crooked stick
wrapped in golden 
wires around, 
chanting from
the book of 
the cyber wars

prove 
me
w
ro
n
g
.