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August 1, 2015
I have images of no candor, paper balloons looking for the reason of air, a mind expanding to accept a question that cannot be worded but worked as a work in carefully guided experiments off the edge of sanity, I have the time split so many ways it might fool itself that no one might tell yesterday is only a tomorrow we forgot, a slipshod remaking of a time honored mechanism no one knew how to control, but kept secretly under a ruse to rule the hand of the driver that might lead the seeker to another way of losing.