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12.18.08 / 10:52 pm
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i once found the perfect map, red cross blue, oceans and topography; in my hand, the lines were ground into fine powder, dust more fine than sand, loosely scattered ashes.i crave forgiveness on the part of others, i throw money away for nothing, i find relief in solitude, i am uneven, unrefined. the pendulum, its back and forth, the building and rebuilding, the grinding down of resistance and reality like grain for bread; the constant motion, the drive between my homes, the fire i once had within me, the slow projects of my time alone. i cannot tell the future and am afraid; the years and years and years, they settle, clouds of darkness in the wind, and fears only multiply.
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