I leave the building, feeling the air conditioning of the city. It is too perfect. Too clean. We are pets, kept in a terrarium by beings who pity us. We are safe, yes. But we are no longer free.
I leave the building, feeling the air conditioning of the city. It is too perfect. Too clean. We are pets, kept in a terrarium by beings who pity us. We are safe, yes. But we are no longer free.