Infer: This is a moment. This is a resembled movement. A document a drawing a low blow a fuck. We sift oceanic bewteen what happened and the dream. We drunk and fumble. We are aesthetically pleasing.
We are floating out.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Owen in the Open
The mountains have all opened out themselves, And made a hidden valley of their own. No habitation can be seen; but they Who journey thither find themselves alone -W. Wordsworth
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