Thursday, June 9, 2011


The world outside my window is melting. The world inside my walls is set to broil once that blazing ball of fire finds its way to the front windows. It's hard writing in this kind of weather. My brain tends to overheat. I have to fight through the slush to get a handful of pages. Like Hunter S., I've never been able to properly explain myself in this climate.

-this communication sent from the heart of the sun-

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