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New Psyentist
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
writing by the firelight of a charred, embrous monk
again; again -
i find myself aswept in a field of dreams and darkness
straight, wet pathways in a clouded room
I think I found my eyes on the floor
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shapeless blasphemers - the one with the best tits...
i am somewhat concerned
graves and christmas cognac
who am i?
red rover; blue falcon
What DAW is right for you?
GET AWAY FROM THAT STREETCORNER BOBBY, THERE BE DO...
writing by the firelight of a charred, embrous monk
madness of the fourth orb
plague carrier
on the precipice of noetic wisdom
not only that...
When the going get wierd...
So, uh...
heart shaped scar
SYNAPSE ANTIFA
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the Fittest
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