You could stab my skin with a thousand points and I still wouldn't feel what I need to.
I'm drinking a formless substance with no temperature, no weight, no characteristics at all.
It's filling me, it's filling me and destroying me all at once.
And I'm so oddly neutral about this whole entity.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
Armageddon
I quote.
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"In the long run, he's committing suicide," said the driver. "Seems like the only kind of job an American can get these days is committing suicide in some way."
"Good point," said Trout.
- Vonnegut, Kurt. Breakfast of Champions. New
York: Deltacorte Press, 1973.
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Think hard about that one.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Your Mental Health is Important.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Technique
The contents of her head splattered against the canvas of drywall behind her. A maladroit mural.
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