Computers crunching; we’re databased to tables; calculated into ads and objects. We’re numbered, measured; treasured only by our worth. You and me are matched and watched by coded clouds. Can you sense its charges flowing, trying hard to grab your lonesome heart and wallet?
Had to do a second Quadrille for De at dVerse. Of course also computers crunch… I can feel them chewing at my being.
December 4, 2017