Metal flexing like mindquakes in Carsten's revelation, a doll spinning like a schizoid cloud in the inner gate of a macro-thanatophile mushroom...slides and carousels twitch realities out of sync, collecting smashed diamonds in the process.
As inorganic flowers grow over plastics, dynamics pour into images which fade away in shrieking fits and collateral spasms...in topical miasmas, they glow and perish, post-human memoirs of blackened fantasy worlds.
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