A dilapidated terminal with no shortage of unwashed bodies. Riding for hours in suffocating noise and sweltering boredom. Mottled grey streaks as a effigy for winter. Pristine dunes and sculpted shelves for miles and miles. Young trees bent at right angles in snow planters. Bowed in metaphorical empathy for the invisible weight of the human condition. The winter wilderness oppressing the subconscious entitlement of every person not wearing jeans and a flannel.
6:20 p.m. - 2019-03-16
Recent entries:
Dissonant Statics - 2019-03-25
Dissonant Statics - 2019-03-25
Punctuated Spring Afternoon - 2019-03-25
Turning Un-Orthodox - 2019-03-21
Pepper Mill - 2019-03-16
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