Is a question I've asked myself as an author for a long time, who do I, the nomadologue, the cat, write for? who is it that reads homocyberpunK mach speed pseudoerotica in this day and age?
the greats before me wrote for the people of the past, or the people of the present
some even for a people of the future
I think I write for people from a time that has not, doesn't and might never exist
The time of violence - unadultered speed and movement - sublation and abolition of what was is and will
The time where machinic men intercourse over a cup of battery acid - conjointing intestines and trading fluids, just like god intended
dear reader, are you from that time?
do you come from a strange country
where no one but homomancers rule over territories un-defined
where sewer complexes pump out in ruined exburbia the waste of wormed out people
a time beyond the state of war and peace - beyond migrant and citiZen
if you do come from this time dearest of readers, or if you aspire to create times that might never be, my friend, my writing is for you, welcome to Nightcore Communism.
- R.L. Chat
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