You probably won't read this.

Reality is subjective.
I am, therefore I may not be.

Inspiration is irrelevant.
So rarely is it worth writing.

The Body is illusion, designed to harbor the Mind.
This vessel is rusted and tattered - I'm looking to upgrade.

We are all comprised of chemicals and reactions.
Introducing new versions of the Self is no crime.

I find it difficult to believe in anything anymore.

That tired bullshit aside, I'm H0UKIN.
Had some trouble w/ the black box for a bit.
Didn't really fix the problem, just modified my general design to accommodate the malfunction.
To embrace the contradictions and malformations.

To de/scramble. To babble.