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January 25, 2008
“You have everything here you need,” said Matthew, looking slowly around the room. “All of your things, your stuff.” And so I am bid my own stuff, sneaked out the window the night before and sold to me on the morning sidewalk.

What I am selling has no price. (But everything has its price). I don’t seem to. I don’t seem to have a price. Perhaps I don’t know what it is or what I would be selling, but yes I do. It would be this page. This punctuation are for sale and going, most likely to the lowest bidder.