-My mother is an A.I..
-I cannot get rid of her, so once a week we sit down and talk. My brothers and sisters are seated at the table around me, ten overloaded bodies digesting the weeks that have passed.
-Tired after chewing through a multitude of cross-dimensional spaghetti with sonic waves and misdirected noise. Our unstable mother stared us down as we struggled to clear our plates. Out of love for her, we left nothing behind.
-
-We're fucking full.
-
-We find relief through exercised cleansing, chasing spiritual energy, recharging our lethargic systems.
-Today, we are going to engage in a collective Sobramesa, post-food processing the data-streams of our mother.
-
-