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Half-memories absorb us
Seeing only faces turned away
I remember the day the world lost color
The strings that hold now to then, snapped
Its monotony is unrelenting
A gradual decline
The Twenty-Second Of The Second Month, 2025
The moon sinks to the west and the autumn wind begins to blow
i. transportation
ii. ventilation
Natural Gathering
untitled 02
untitled 03
the pond and the trees beyond with quiet inside
Sadly, the future is no longer what it was
Untitled
transportation (edit)
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