These are my thoughts. They are not meant to make sense. They are my echo into the woods. I am the tree that falls, and it is here that I make a sound.
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Wednesday, August 04, 2004

The noise in my head

It continues...the noise in my head. Distraction upon distraction. Taking a while to type this properly because of inability to concentrate. On the surface all is calm. Underneath is magma, roiling boiling and spoiling to blow, smelling of putrid malefaction.

Off I go to ponder.

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