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Starve, but not for the glory of inner gods of determination
rather, wash away in the ocean, give in, yield
honor not the power of will, but the music of possibility

Attempt neither to find dignity in the aches of your machinic master
Relinquish the one future, collapse and rise again in the inherent plurality of life
Starve, but not for the glory of inner gods of determination.

Scream, squeal even if you must, but seek no meaning in catharsis
self-destruction can have no more significance than in darkness color
honor not the power of will, but the music of possibility

Nor cowardly hide beneath recomforting ignorance.
Seek instead the equations of turbulence, stare at their intractability
Starve, but not for the inner gods of determination

See through the knot without attempting to unwind it
Without despair stare into the algebraic rot of the organs
honor not the power of will, but the music of possibility

And from this all stand tall and free, broken into inevitable victory
But do not relish your ability to rub death in the nose as if it was mere ox
Starve, but not for the glory of inner gods of determination
honor not the power of will, but the music of possibility.

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