Made from rephotographed cellphone footage, a GoPro, casette recorders, and shards of sweet tunes. In hell one fantasizes about becoming one of the matriculating cancers in the aristocracy’s faux counter-culture (and the recycled variants.) He soon learns his soul is meant for disintegration, and he wasn’t born with the particular nonchalant disinterest needed to survive in the wild. He decides to purchase his identity.
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