You dwellers of random keywords, led by cobalt stem cells from Dr Benway, gazing at trip-hop and dark train surroundings, you've reached the station where Stéphane Roux once was. There's an hotel-motel, sequels, victims and pixels escalate in thousand unities. It's about nihilism and the lack of it inflitrated in my free online book, The not-being. Millions of pixels are some sort of visual blog that may be title The not-seeing, in the end. Welcome to Islam Inc.Vous, chasseurs de mots-clés aléatoires, attisés par l'odeur des cellules souches couleur cobalt du Dr Benway, écoutant du trip-hop sur les larges avenues, vous avez atteint la station où était Stéphane Roux. Il y a un hotel-motel, des restes, beaucoup de déchets et de victimes, des pixels et des mots par milliers. On parle nihilisme et son absence, ab sens, le non-être. Un journal visuel ou pas grand chose de plus de ce qui restera sur terre de lui. Bienvenu à Islam Inc.
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insofar
1999-01-06
insofarRead the oracle, sometime earlier, and figured out i should wait. first my body benway now my corpse marines in wasteland for the great outdoor operation the game on syndrom i'm george and you know it feels like she's fading away when i need her more and be closer to the fly again state now that there's no stake nothing really matters i blew all away again when we forget ouselves in the contemplation of numbers i just wanted to be your slave and have a bar code tatooed on my neck freezed out and new religion get your kicks on channel wide narrow coaster but she ain't no victim anymore and i turn out to be canned again being a few words away in distress again pills the benway way i got what i'm worth stand alone in the rain again the sun ain't gonna shine anymore or at least it feels so you don't know but you're gonna find out i'm so wasted on the other side used to be citizen first my body now my corpse and soul mining change the scale hijack the emotion planning true love somewhere lies above the clouds of smoke and below the flows of asphalt melted with snow and series of daydream when i have various mortal accidents always crashing in the same car enjoy the silence while you can afford to listen to the temper hijack the gender render until the mountain where the cruxifiction takes place are you judas staring at me as it's cold on the outside and the game on syndrom strikes again and i have no right to take my place in the human race leave no traces don't even be they'll remove your traces who's the victim anyway the one that holds the gun living down under beneath the skin deep haching to be the worst the deeper i'll leave my clothes for the perpetual dawn asking to enter the realm post december collect the skins they know me better and had a clearer view of what i should be in a natural negative way milk no more sugar no more have it plain raw and you won't laugh any longer on the other side they know me better waste

The beat goes on and on but one question remains : :
Where am I ?