(
catscradle Jun. 14th, 2004 02:45 am)
The word is merely extension of the will. Impression to thought to word. Everything is the text. You write and you write and you write and you write. Word without end.
Looping dreams, of words, words, words. Words I can't beging to understand, but insist I recognize their presence.
It's 2:40am and I hate Nietszche.
Migraine.
Looping dreams, of words, words, words. Words I can't beging to understand, but insist I recognize their presence.
It's 2:40am and I hate Nietszche.
Migraine.
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