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October 17th, 2010

11:06 pm: you are ten percent thought without dissent

I gotta lotta people telling me I smell like the dead apparently they cannot see that I'm already walking around without a head I've got a problem with the object of the ongoing game—set the self upon the shelf and drag your shell through the day, but the world is flush with monocular mush and dingbats to despise, you find they're not thinking, just narrowly blinking, but never quite cleaning their eyes.

I can see my childhood home
I think of my dear old mum
what have I become…


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