Turning closer to Fifty than Twenty was a sobering affair. Lonely and without fanfare. I spent the day half-asleep and shirking the omnipresence of ozone-thick responsibilities, in the unintelligible, mad-crazy world outside my blast doors. I build a new nest from cherry wood and the bones of broken plans. Just over halfway done, with nothing new to show for it. I curl up on the half-assembled skeleton bunk of memories, and sleep through the sunrise.
11:43 a.m. - 2017-02-13
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Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
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