Yesterday, the reality of myself seemed to change, or, at the very least, feel different.
Maybe I just finally let myself see things the way they are.
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a presence inspired by the production of perpetual passion. or perhaps vice versa. processual prose for the preservation of captivating moments. memory must exist to exist. i capture moments to make it so. "claudelean are you awake?" always. "if you could have one wish what would it be?" for an instant to forget my body. with a mind of material, i attempt to write out what is within. it helps me forget my body to make matter.
you should see the stereogum.com mp3 player here if you have flash
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