December 2010
3 posts
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Somewhere in the space of yesterday, I woke up to my own emptiness in hand… empty by my own hand. Is it that I cannot remember or that I am afraid to. Is it that it seems more interesting if I can’t, or that I just don’t like what I do remember, so I say there’s nothing there at all…? Do you remember how it felt to be plucked out of the earth… was it fairly unremarkable or were you so caught up in...
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