"The routine of instagram postings seemed to remix the saturated motifs of hypermarkets and airport lounges. Possibly concealing a secret, signals to the others in obscure messaging on the state of things here on planet Earth. Such clear pools in sunlight almost too warm for comfort, scrolling through pictures tinted in the primary colours of excess or are those just zircon collars on the kissing borzois?

Green splash, black square a speck of dust magnified and repeated in empty rooms. Why are two dots inside a tin of paint, their edible colour make the poisonous look organic or is that how they like it over there, up there on that milky globe?

I was just thinking to be it has nice, a hiccuped poem in scrambled sentiments for a click through indifferent user. Cigarettes, fingers dry with blood, come free in eggshell blue with 9 likes on Monday.

There is so much deceit in semaphore, that shows us not how or where is the way, street signs ground control, screens to watch a world through, binary coding slack to the hardness of a soft line."