and it looks all the better from the arse-side of it. I am now in posession of just over 5,000 words on W.B. Yeats, who is now my spiritual posession. I will use his howling ectoplasmic carcass to...wipe myself with. My bibliography is present, correct and ALMOST ENTIRELY FALSIFIED, as in the last hour, without leaving the room or the chair, I
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Screaming. From you? Don't be so pessimistic.
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