I drive a little while on an infinite highway. Fluffy little clouds is the name of the song in my head. I try and escape routine. One thousand cuts is a philosophy-turned-sometimes-asphyxiation. Escapism is a painted lover beckoning from a second-floor doorway. I drive by, eyes wandering. I meet a porcelain doll at twilight. We invest pieces of ourselves into plastic negotiations. I leave empty handed. She watches me go with a puppy clutched in her ivory talons. An embarrassment of riches for everyone.
10:50 a.m. - 2017-07-10
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
Heartdesert - 2018-06-25
Elliptical - 2018-06-25
Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
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