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August 7, 2015
I fled this day to the other side of my reality, beckoning me to re-assume its function in the place of activation, the launching place, that all the particles of mind might assemble accordingly as all the wild and tame, calm and ferocious, sublime and dull might be exhumed as starving angels in the battle of evermore, and on this precipice looming up my mind fashioning what is believed to what is, mapping imagination to reality's wounding checkbook, that such a place I might find myself, is the very place I clumsily forgot when my battered car finally crashed.