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All our births are the births of twins.

An on no it exactness of being shining the horizon of TV; life has right to stop before we have with the indices rejoined

Our elective affinities, unforeseeable coincidences, haphazard infidelity ; a metalepsis. The world closed in by incest, fatality, perfidy As near as possible to the tribal and initiation, no distinction between night and day Without its ritual you are dwindling The soap is our destiny.

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