Accounts of a Meta Defector

The Cycle


We rode our bikes around the east side when the sun finally showed.  A sweet scent of magnolia blooms and roses and wet ground - all the moisture, summoned upward by the light, was carrying their essence.  Isn't it alarming…

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Quantum Disentanglement

I don't want to assume that you've come here looking for me after finding my Meta pages dead. You’re probably my mom, or a distant friend I haven't seen in 10 years - hi :) - but if you have…

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