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Friday, November 19, 2004

and now my mind takes a ride. so buckle your seatbelt and put out that cigarette; unless, of course, you want to have lots of fun...

i'm chiming in my psychoactive waves of literal hypocrisy, threading my phallisized hypodermic needle through hedonism into mechanistic
absolutism, all the while impregnating streams of nonsense with mixed
metaphors along the fountain of youth, better known as the abyss of the hairless soldier.

don't try to understand, ye olde botoxed composite of the color
spectrum. just exist as innocence, like you always do. take six of
this and half a dozen of that, and you'll morph into a happy little boy toy. i promise. but are my toes crossed? are meanings meaningful? perhaps you'll never know the truth, as i am the inept sole provider of that.

sometimes i drink and dance my soul away. its only worth the price of
admission anyway, and there is always that extra soul shining loudly
from the gas station bathroom, if only i could find a key.

the truth is about spaghetti.

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