today,
my heads exploding with spasms, migraine attacks, my oneeye red, dripping salt. in other words: my heads on the block. but hey, don` t cry for me argentina. tomorrow never knows.
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...It`s snowing, the boy said. He looked at the sky. A single gray flake sifting down.He caught it in his hand and watched it expire there like the last host of christendom. (From Corman McCarthy, THE ROAD)
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