what if i was a decaying rock star and you were the memories made cytoplasm of a communist revolutionary and we had a dialogue in which i stood for nihilism, what will destroy the world, and you stood for communism, or hope in humanity, that which will revive it
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Esteemed entroponauts & plot derailers extraordinaire for our hot entropolic summer! 🌫
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I held Graad gently, like an architect holds districts of panel-houses…” Rows of grey boxes crackle in Ignus’s chest, like a window into history. “Like matchboxes in the palm of your hand."
- Robert Kurvitz: Sacred and Terrible Air, Group Ibex translation
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there are bells in ignus nilsen waltz
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Reblog to recruit your friends to the revolutionary cause.
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you can non-entity me but I'll just come back with airbrushed skin, lego hair and a new unkempt and radicalized bff who won't live past middle age
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mutton chops Mazov bust, full beard Mazov posters, he's got the range. His comrade for his part is probably also an expert in beard grooming, what DOESN'T that man specialize in, after all (feminism) (also de-escalation).
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if Kim started putting points into his dismally low conceptualization skill it would start telling him in a Katlan accent to build sausage grinders and throw his Moralintern bosses into them. and that’s why he doesn’t do it. ever. but—despite being so repressed, it still convinced him to wear the revolutionary airman cosplay
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the head is death / the tail is life
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socialist fraternal kiss / reference
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