A return to a land of candy castles. Years between visits now find it draped in dread. A halo of crows punctuate a cloudless sky. Thousands of bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder in living death. Wringing as much joy as humanly possible from the writhing, fleshy mess of object permanence. The superior plan is egress, against the sun. Returning to a temporary home chiseled from shiny black oak. Geometric, organic, aesthetic. Silver and glass far too fancy for first generation white trash.
12:21 a.m. - 2018-09-26
Recent entries:
Years of Manifested Cheer - 2018-10-16
Beautiful Bubbles - 2018-10-09
Hair-strand of God - 2018-10-09
Slice of Divine - 2018-10-01
No Different - 2018-10-01
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