An island as launchpad. A launchpad as island. MAIN STAGE. Bomb craters all around, they are filled with toxic water and smaller rings of land and debris form within, concentric. Is this land art? it's just and embedded void loop. Won't be easy to reach the pad. Was it just failed V2 rocket attempts to escape? NO! it wasn't. Many died elsewhere, but here, 22k fed a machine's dream to conquer gravity. But THE PARABOLA. Listen well I repeat: here, where you stand, 22 thousand people died _For Real_. Go read the bunker walls, see those antifa slogans and there's even a muted post horn somwhere..how californian.. anyway, overall one can't filter much in this conditions, both extra-corporeal and innate sensors (or any other implanted third party instrument) will get the registers jammed by radia and local EMF interference leaking through warfare freqs. Relative humidity here marks the 100.
w.a.s.t.e-land.. see the fumes? the believers call them ignis fatuus. But is plain clear you are standing over the whole periodic table. Definetively -Not- the best place to take a spliff. Walk further ahead? you will find a playground, city planning contract-addictions? Okey, it was certainly not built for the sake of black humor just the usual whims of crocked politiciancians so called modus operandi. But there 's even more further down: A picnic bench, a mailbox? Who would claim a parcel in the middle of this toxic landfill?

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MathurinMilan escondite(#191RF)
An encapsulated hideaway where we collect packets of meaningless existence. Impulses to be in a TCP/IP Forbidden Zone. A floating island (at times connected to those 4k meters above sea level, there in the Andes mountains, at lake Titicaca). Right now you are Out-Of-Band. un-locateable, signal is lost... Is the main post/tele/radio, here all that senza-destinazione gets routed. Welcome and Goodbye.
huaquillas(#113R)
All around you there's people yelling trying to sell or smugle stuff, from food or exotic animals to cheap chinese electrical appliances. One can get anything here. A stolen 747 cockpit? a handgranade? sweing needles? you name it. Looks like the usual daily deals on this third-worldist location however no one feels safe here... The believers advice is: "not to stop by". And soon you will know why. Please proceed following the obvious and usual precautions. Watch out and don't miss the sunrise. Read the signs and always look back.
En los archivos quedaron registros que pocos podian entender, sus lenguas y patrones devinieron oscuros tras generaciones...
And yet there lie in his hoards many records that few now can read, for their scripts and tongues have become dark to later men...*