My laptop is dying, and we stopped writing letters too long ago to care. I know that i grew up in jersey and that you're a car that's convinced it's crashed and i know you don't smoke. we're talking in opposite directions, but never have I seen so much flora in an approach. Plants grew up in noir films telling themselves they have to be poison to be pretty. I have learned and forgotten that one needs to build truth in order to keep it six, maybe seven times, but i'm the same as i was when it was six o'clock, and i know that when i wake up, i'll feel better knowing my hands than people.
I've been lying again,. i've been couching my failures in the language of uninvited love instead of the semantics of knowledge. Every tumbling phrase is a reversion to a single soothing sentence i heard long enough ago to forget completely. I'm probably getting something here, but i don't know if it's more than i found exploring the southern poles of what i remember from when i was smaller: one move per turn, one motion per moment.
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