A rabid increase of literature consumption. Red pills and evo-psych articles litter a recently swept floor. Disappointing abandonment of puppy-love crushes. Kava-flavored bad ideas a little after 10pm. Unacknowledged flavors of good form for self-declared victims. A late thirty-something year old boy struggles in an empty sandbox. Last minute inspiration wrung from the background noise of zombies. Weak and diluted ink as a metaphor for so many things.
5:22 p.m. - 2018-04-23
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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