The world is full of things far darker than my bad ideas.
And who isn't a sports fan when lives are at stake?
In my neurodegenerative order, I always cross the street
without looking. It's only a matter of time before I'm hit
by a victory parade carrying an automaton plundered from the island
where every second person is an automaton. In this way, Rhodes
is not a store of wonders free for the vanquisher, but a nightmare
you will yourself into in order to sail yourself home.
When I count the constellations against the gears
of my Antikythera mechanism, all it augurs me is a career
playing terrorists in made-for-TV movies. I don't know
what else I expected, but I never expected to be
the kind of man who mourns his friends.
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