That night, she has unending dreams about being trapped in a bureaucracy, handed off from one desk to another, put on hold, asked to fill out more forms, shuffled from one department to another, and put back into another line with more forms to fill. The forms go into vast data warehouses where they are pulverized, turned into a steaming, greasy miasma of comma-separated text files, spiked with random byte-order marks. She sees the heartless machinery of bureaucracy turning, with helpless people trapped inside the countless gears. She hears their helpless screams, until they fall silent, all
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