AUTOFICTION #3 BY ANGELICISM01

Just a polite reminder that I gassed the Jews, I killed the Kurds, I bombed the Arabs, I fucked small children while they begged for mercy, I couldn’t spend another summer behind a screen, the killing fields are mine, and so is the kiss, the kiss at the beginning of time, of Hygeia’s proxy, at the far end of what was said to be another universe, in the folds of microtweaking the fuck. This is what the ‘single player’ option abbreviates, most obviously. The antisocial path stimulates nonlinearity on the side of the machine. This is why this autofiction was a reminder, just a polite reminder that I gassed the Jews, I killed the Kurds, I bombed the Arabs, I released the anthrax when the Five Towers were hit, I spread the variants in Vietnam, in Laos, in Cambodia, in Timor, I fucked small beautiful Chinese preteens while they begged for mercy on Epstein Island, I took James Biden’s yellow submarine to get there in 2018, hardly able to say it any other way, I dab this heroin for my clusters in 2021, in 2300, and I couldn’t spend another summer behind a screen with these extinction headaches when I could be on the rooftop of the Circular Rainbow Crib in Tibet, or on Water Island, or the skydeck of the Five Towers, looking for shooting stars and smoking angel dust, the killing fields mine, this kiss at the end of time ours, all of it your fault and yours alone, at the beginning of the world.