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December 2, 2024

Though I’ve roamed through many places,
None there is that my heart troweth
Fair as that wherein fair groweth
One whose laud here interlaces
Tuneful words, that I’ve essayed.
Let this tune be gently played
Which my voice herward upraises.

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Thought:

“This is the secret of security, like a steak under cellophane: to surround you with a sarcophagus in order to prevent you from dying.”

Jean Baudrillard | Symbolic Exchange and Death

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