Thursday, March 31, 2016

The world is a strange but ultimately boring place.  I'm left to draw inspiration from the shrinking pouches of moisture amidst the wilting body of my own decaying interest in the outcomes of this ongoing reaction to the face of death and sex and infinity.  It could be worse, though; I could've ended up doing something that would require me to wake up early on semi-regular basis, as is the topic of all of my nightmares.  

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