Vile plumage. 

"….the “innovation pessimism” of certain bourgeois economists is a reflection of this: rather than seeing the slowdown in innovation as a temporary phenomenon arising from the limits of the current social relations – i.e. private ownership of the means of production – society’s lack of technological progress is painted as the inevitable result of having reached a certain level of development, of having “picked all the low-hanging fruit”. But this innovation slowdown is only “inevitable” within the confines of capitalism, which, having reached a certain level in the development of the productive forces, is no longer able to utilise these very same forces that it has created."

Lay stoned on the first night back, happy right to the eyeballs that I'm back here. What keeps spinning is the phrase 'we adapt. We change. We grow'

There is no void, we simply go with the tide all permanent like  and battle each obstacle as it pops up. go with yourself. 

A pinical of inner peace descents, I must move and accept the open Dawn no matter how invisible the promise of future payment is, we must accept the sun is hot and walk on through the desert. She has burned me deep, so far down it feels like the very thing that generates my ever changing flesh was a product of hers. So when it broke I sat hemorrhaging her voice, spasming wildly from shock. My machine had no continuity anymore. 

But my future has changed, it is the straight edge of a colourful letter on a desolate wall. ascending back to grace, my house is falling down but my home is safe.  we adapt, we change we grow. 

i'll miss you.