the other night i dreamt of high school versions of amber and meagan moon. i was trying to explain to them about my stomach...the horrors of being able to actually feel my organs wailing and writhing inside my body
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i just meant the bag ladies in particular from the 5ème...because it is so much harder to envision them as villainous, raving drunkards who take advantage of the support they are offered from the government or sympathetic people in the street or whatever. death especially and all the rest exists unfiltered everywhere
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I go to university to learn how to "write."
I am jealous of the way you write. It is beautiful in a way I do not understand.
You like clavicles, too.
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didn't you learn to write when you learned to read?
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i am joshua, of NYC, or grqvedqdor. if you are in paris, pleqse meet me at shakespeare and co at 2300 tonight.
merci
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