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April 26, 2014
I'm a puddle stretching out boundaries receding the world where its primally factored as the structure where people trade commodities not listed on the market below the boardwalk. On the widening expanse that delivers its panoramas like candies in the deli to unsuspecting buyers subject to overloaded systems begging the question, why am I here or why can't I go back to bed and stay there? Is there a death appropriate for the conditions pervading my living spaces dissolved so completely the very memory of my life just yesterday is a blurry fog or child's smear on the bathroom wall?