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March 30, 2011
It is true, how the night became a place where day unveiled the light backwards where I sought the creator, not by reason of gratitude but for resentment, convinced the shadows rifling my habitat of carefully orchestrated isolations were tricks to lure me into false hope after apostasy wracked the ship that addled and tortured me across the oceans of youth mistaken for puddles; so I was duped, I admit it, but that's not the worst. I sought partners to bag and drag through desktop programs riddled with malevolent viruses and funky spies, masked as cute games for sex.