the vast expanses now reached in the technocapitalist society have no foundation to fall back upon, and all left lingering may be lost. the fear of failure seeps through every shallow breath between the hum and buzz of the mumble music on the airwaves. a tantalizing tingle engulfs the senses one steps out into the concrete jungle, ready to wire up and ride the lightning for another day. memories of misery and death cloud the visceral plane as symbols become dejected from the plane of immanence, faster and further from the wellspring of life. shadows lurk but no bodies betray the ghostly glimmer of another ego walking tall among the fallen. crooked faggots break under worn battle boots. the murmur of apocalypse grows nearer as a bright light envelopes the last remnants, wrought with rigor mortis. zog zombies drone on into the yawn of time, desiring death deeper than any lust left for life.