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January 11, 2006
Hearing it in my head feels like fuzz on my tongue hissing "T.J.Maxxxxx-. Time warps. I feel like I'm meant to react when the woozy wears. T.J.Maxxx. I can't stop thinking it. Like a straight-jacketed freak repeatedly slobbering, " I didn't do it." Can't blink the sensation away. The x's ssssss sound. It's like that time in the park. The aroma of coconut and black&mild combined. That smell was misplaced in the time line. I wanted to carry it back into allocated history. My brain is begging for oxygen flow, paced breathing. At least it doesn't taste like tomorrow's death.