(no subject)

eventually, someone will need to boycott time … and on that day, someone else should protest against space. I would like to see time lift it’s heavy oppressive hand from the console of our souls … so we can all flourish as a harmonious pulsation of light. Perhaps we should skate hands with a grandfather clock, perhaps this might make us explode into a poof of light. Motherfucker, this is more then a snapshot … even if time will be frozen, like my girlfriend on the rag.

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