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April 7, 2014
Into the raw questions I bleed myself toward undoing the matter of the questions' control existing in the answers; bringing myself to the fitting hold where the newborn heads of ideas spawn their quiet majesties, where reduction employs a growing matrix on words before construction, before their reality becomes uttered, before they're shared, before they extend themselves and enfold answers hanging rotten on dried branches holding up time-honored foundations of palaces, that such decay might be revealed as the new manure, vital fertilizer of new growth, that such a portent might vigorously entice the downfall of the old guard.