Our Records Show. By themischievousannaDecember 2, 2016 I am safe without a name Until my words In anonymity Bleed identity Because Records are force To every life In every body. Advertisements Share this:Share on TumblrTweetMoreEmailPrintPocketLike this:Like Loading... Categories: Art, Culture, horror, illustration, Nonfiction, Poetry, Politics, WritingTags: art, artist, fiction&poetry, Freedom, horror, illustration, nonfiction, people, philosophy, poetry, Politics, surveillance Related Articles Under the wasted rubble. By themischievousanna4 weeks ago Another subject. By themischievousanna1 month ago The Messiness of Illusion. By themischievousanna1 month ago Leave a Reply Cancel reply Enter your comment here... Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Email (required) (Address never made public) Name (required) Website You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change ) You are commenting using your Google account. ( Log Out / Change ) You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change ) You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change ) Cancel Connecting to %s Notify me of new comments via email. Notify me of new posts via email.