You first notice this clinging notion of irreparable distance in a survey of the estuary garden where the grove meets the seaside and does not sway but embraces
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here goes. no more bullshit anxiety. no more fearing my ideas, killing them before they're born. i'm pro-abortion, not pro-choice, but every train of thought that leaves my tattered station is worth a thousand bundles of joy
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The new apartment is a beautiful place. I'm basically just a kid at summer camp, but instead of a gross, cold cabin with spiders, I have a room with no councelor, and all my favorite things
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For each corpse is a singing man And every baby is a can And every sunbeam is a moon And each disaster is a boon And in this blanket, smiles and frowns Are the deathknell and its sound