I Am The System Master (No Signal)
‘No Signal’, or in another translation, the body in the vicinity of vulnerable, neighbouring Internet imagination. The gross malfunctioning of the TV display is quicker in bringing fantasy to a halt than romantic sorrows. Unpalatable bitterness of the night coming to an end. The beaten tracks turn into a dance floor flooded in clinically obscene daylight-saving light bulbs. Palpable blue screens, incantations masquerading as computer protocols, invoke a more material sense of the word, prevalent with sentiments deeper than skin-deep, bad connections and endless reconfigurations.
I Am The System Master (No Signal)
‘No Signal’, or in another translation, the body in the vicinity of vulnerable, neighbouring Internet imagination. The gross malfunctioning of the TV display is quicker in bringing fantasy to a halt than romantic sorrows. Unpalatable bitterness of the night coming to an end. The beaten tracks turn into a dance floor flooded in clinically obscene daylight-saving light bulbs. Palpable blue screens, incantations masquerading as computer protocols, invoke a more material sense of the word, prevalent with sentiments deeper than skin-deep, bad connections and endless reconfigurations.