Cicerone says it is always like this, more or less. We are all here, we are waiting, we are watching. Electric eyes behind curtain glass walls of watchful buildings, a malignant architecture, a social cannibalism.
Mirror wall to mirror wall, a closed circuit dialogue. Echoes of human presence trapped between matrices of self-desiring screens. It's an eternity box, a false infinity, a device for rendering the unreachable. It's a bounce-space, an image trampoline, an echo chamber of little horrors; horror of appearance and horror of disappearance. You need a black belt in click boxing, you click and tick the boxes to make the choices that fix your co-ordinates in the blink of an eye and eye and eye.
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