Sunday, June 20, 2010


A wasted 78 minutes of this fragile life again. Fragile in the sense of meaning but never in the truth if being. To be contrived in art, such a ploy we face. To be caught in the lie is the sentence we never hope to discover. Why leave so early, so many places the timekeeper keeps. So many places to never bequeath. 3 little devils went over the wall, obscurity and fame lost them all.

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