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| the passion of this, our, broken time(s) frissonic reconstructed spheres, so stricken, a sigmoid bell's ringing, as struck xxxxxxxxxxx xxx xxx __________________. when it was meant that the concrete floor exhales into the bones of the feat through ragged but comfortingable socks.^ this gabled hall, so crowned with bell anointed with oils named for saintess LUCIA whose wring knocks; knocks the minds, knocks the thoughts from, of of the thoughts of; the thoughts of blood from minds that spinned themselves in tightening spirals. This house has neither gables nor tower to holdde ye* bell but yet the pealing spills comfort here and in the street ^the same as worn were yesterday there. *not hearthern y, but a thorn from a back-series of yesterdays, usefully gone from the graphemes herein, but approximated by them. (other) going to CO with V to hang out for awhile in the trve kvlt grim cold. say nothing but that I should return safe. (other) been working on more cartoonings. in about a million years I should be a success. xo (end of entry) | ||||||
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