I would like to go to Sweden

Where the snow is crisp and even and one soul replaces another in a steady cycle of life. At first this alarmed me and the lightning cycles of life flashed hope and sorrow in a paralysing nightmare discotheque and I thought what it is for, what is for, what is it all for if we can account for it in neutrals with flashes and pings. But now I sit calmly navigating populations and listening to the simulated sound of the orb exhaling. I am not locked and tortured, there is no need to conjur the strength of Ivan Denisovich for my daily rounds. I have bread, I am warm, let us breathe.

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