I’d rather die than not ride

Pulling the yak wool over my eyes is a would-be could-be excercize in feudalism. The Universe endowed me with expert shearing skills, along with a tactical team of textile experts. Trust I’ll need all the help I can get, saving you from yourself. Your mind is too small to go out wandering alone at night, may I offer you some reinforcements?

(Image Credit: Banksy)


In that future place where moonbeams and sunshine collide, a.k.a. the apex of dual-bodied light transmission, human eyeballs are useless parallax-inducing bioforms. Here you’ll feel blind all-knowing starchildren at play, tossing radiant light-bodies like beach balls. Historical synaptic bursts cut through the sand like glacial striations, as darker-than-blue liquid ozone laps atmospheric shores. Aerosols scatter and organic bonds rupture to create a new ethereal archetype. 

A wise man once said, “there’s nothing wrong with Earth that getting rid of all the people won’t cure.”

For now, while we still exist, exponential progress in technology is inescapable. Things may never be the same after today, but that’s okay. Come, take my hand. Let us look forward and evolve together, into our collective future selves. 


PS. this is our 111th pce post! I’d like to thank the little people, those who appreciate these random accelerations of intellectual matter through the digital universe.