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2021-07-26
signals from the way-out


I am now in contact with sleep cults of the ancient world. My lighthouse eye scans the purple sea for ghosts of sailors drowning at midnight. I built an antenna out of garbage and transmit signals to secret, persecuted societies living in subterranean darkness under golden cities of the sun. Brothers and sisters, I am but a mild-mannered mailroom supervisor.

But I believe in you. And I will render any support I can from way out here in the distant future.



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