In space, no one can hear you scream I opened my ears and the stars came down speakers of languages I once called exotic but now call data streamed like a starfield across reams and pages of luminescent notebooks howled (like so many monstrous experiments) the Ancient Breath of Dissertation and sighed a degree into being. By degrees, I pass from this starfield to the next, the ancient howling, dying, mutely speaking a deeper horror: the revision.
--Keith W. Slater
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