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Sunday, June 13, 2010

This is the news

It's clear that all of this is put up. All of this is shut up. One small instance of clear and present stranger gets less

This didn't sharpen

When, in bullets, I can say this one thing or the other and make an executive summary. Of this and that, the piled up happenstance that makes a history. It doesn't correlate and it isn't causal. One hand clapping whilst a tree falls makes sound for me.

been a long way a way

It's just the case that this certain race, that hasn't losers because they're killed, hasn't got a special winner now Now, I've been about as far ahead, as I'd like to be, but there's some distance between let's take an aside where I tell you about Bëbe, the ice cream in the desert. Travelling in Albonia was, in detailed memorandums, an implicit paean of unrequited love. A bitter turkey twizzle of wrestling with cats and dogs. Whether it's ok to be past broken due to shaking lily getting less etiolated, and then blooming in the 10w light bulb glare of that particular twat, that's as maybe. Still, it gets down to this, I left my keys in Albonia