ALL WATCHED OVER BY MACHINES OF LOVING GRACE

The pull of the black square, the luminous screen, both a window and a mirror has been ever more persistent in our consciousness. Increasingly our presence only felt when mediated through a lens or an app or an algorithm, an intermediary of our existence. Creeping derealisation.

You belong to the machine, you are nothing, you are use, you are there to be taken, to be entered and fucked without feeling, without boundary.

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