Machina Mimesis (In The Corner Cafe)

Machina Mimesis (In The Corner Cafe)Nothing less than the sound of footsteps condensing into a shape. Sneaking into the murky urban café³ of crispy mornings. Realized it was a mirror after hours of work. They are filth. And also easily lost in the labyrinth of the theory of their own art - this easily percepted. Within the 4 years of rain it became my own microscopic Macondo. It all meant little, if nothing What is the frase I look for... Chaotic Dementh. Ah yes indeed. Been there before, fair lady? A Copper medal I won at the chill-kill that day: Putrid Run, Salt... Torment, Thirst. Two fierce feasting parties wishing me warmly welcome in the aftermath of their own cold war. Neo-colonialistic freaks, says I. Tempers increase to hatred and vanish - in cataleptic disorders. An apparatus of something, don t really know what, remnant of the good that succumbed in man once? The absolute legion of oddity. Now guess what in the world machina mimesis is?