Red Rot

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once upon a time in america

i fell asleep to {paul} jackson pollock, another suicide cowboy in disguise, leaning against my peter, paul, and mary/merry boy. i was thinking about the breakdown, even in abstract expressionism, smiling at a text secret with slick floors and drawn shades. this week i have cried like a faucet and learned so much philosophy; im not sure i'll ever have the energy to take it all in but i am working toward something. first the buildup,

7:50 a.m. - 2007-03-03

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