#smolpub

the clouds were trans yesterday evening

as well as this morning

thin wispy pink cloud streaking through light blue

in light of the times, yoga ppl want yall to soften your gays ??

look at a point on the wall — immovable arbitrary section of wall paint

purple vinyl majesties betray the binary reprise

who will tell the moon it's often upside down from here

the greyhat meatspace hackers made this happen,

remotely undid scores of generational trauma

what they won't tell ya is that bigfoots are mining ohio

ad asteroid per aspera

this doesn’t fully make sense, but it feels right, and i’m letting it exist that way

this doesn’t fully make sense, but it feels right, and i’m letting it exist that way

this doesn’t fully make sense, but it feels right, and i’m letting it exist that way

a structured outer vessel for a strange, sensitive, imaginative signal

Імперія впаде

trex deck -- crickets in grass **

send a compressed moon photo

-- it’s chilly, she can’t see that -- to

wife over star oldschool sms.

sends shadows from streetlamps back

via * oral tradition

a dog ** * * * )

in pumpkin sweater --

Seymour --

develops negatives

only because

he’s with me (he says) he’s with me

guards on HIGH ALERT. dog woofed in The Far….

chug rest of tea. pen last * words crickets

soak damp ears retreat from

"outside" comfort

to inside comfort. 3 hairy

guards sigh relief (out of touch w ancestors) Seymour smiles

too

The simulation doesn’t collapse the world into paperclips. It collapses intelligence into allegory. And the ease with which this is accepted—shared, cited, lauded—is not a sign of insight. It’s a sign of collective narrative illiteracy. It reveals how desperate we are to outsource moral thinking to toys. This is not alignment risk. This is parable drift. And it's far more dangerous. [...]