Mostly, I am made of nothing. There is a part in life when you realize that, ultimately, you have failed and what you're doing has no point. Religion, ambition--those things matter. But I was standing alone and thinking this and people were streaming past me, and I didn't see where the mattering came into contact… Continue reading writing: mostly, i am made of nothing
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i could be bound in a nutshell and count it as infinite space if not for these bad dreams
the last pavilion 