uncle specs glass of teh book at hand and some baggy shorts unmatching flip flops and a gigantic plastic bag that's all there is to it. that's all I am with.
musings to the witness within me, alienating to the strangers around me, a departure from meaningfulness, to just self-musings, and to destroy everything that I'm comfortable with. The tree has to accept that there will always be parasites around it. I'm talking to myself.
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