a project of skill-less and dead-author labor turned dead-text turned dead-reader, love
affair with space, some cloud to influx information without regard for human eyes. &poetry
Tuesday, September 18, 2018
sometimes i look at pictures of you while listening to Garbage and dead-weep just to get into a weird enough mood to work again, but Lil Miq
your smooth hands, curled near the microphone.
a lurker that cannot deny that you are still Special,
and <you will believe in me> too. I burn, #1crush. tear me apart.
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