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when moving from one moment to the next,what to make sense of? what to wipe off as dust? shit sparkles like diamonds under a particular light.

pufff!
all expectations blow up in smoke.
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i started this drawing and realized that in the 2nd grade we got to draw our own underwater world. and my grandfather taught me how to make a squid. so this is the same subject revisited, with some Iona shoved into it. mostly the things think of themselves before i start to see them form like invisible lines on paper. in the end i am just tracing from point A to point B, vector meets direction, shrimp soup and all the rest of the sea weed.
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ghost town



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pe care parte a oglinzii esti tu acuma? ba { fluiera }
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apoi m-a pocnit cu o bila de hartie in ochiul drept
si ascultam dreadlock holiday -
totul vine de la ∫ine
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
half dead + half sleeping : half twisted - half stirred xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx - ª -ª -º
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monkey

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

monkey

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .



. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
monkey monkey walked up the hill,
came tumbling down the other side
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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i want less of myself and more of this . 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 0

tourist through life part II




collected triffles, maggots and more, more, more, more...

. . . if you look l o o o o o ng enough will reality start
looking like / /// your mind wants
it to ? ? ? ?

or are we pushing escapism ?

pharcide of the moon and we've got tickets to take you there
or pass out in front of the pharmacy door.
time keeps tic-ing we start tac-ing
like you can't hit the shore without crashing into other waves, pushing further
and further, and further with each wave of consciousness or unconsciousness;

{ _ _ _ _ _ }

can't keep running away from yourself and into others

feels like a stone with water sipping through its veins

take-away people
moving like tectonic plates


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mirror mirror on the wall
who am i after all?

.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.^.


listening to coco rosie's new and i started making a collage of their pics,
and included some of the stuff that's been pilling up in ff-found folders on my computer.
handpicked memories with a touch of _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ and sprinkled with plenty of pepper.

tourist through life

with a passport for fleeting thoughts. i keep reality in broken pieces tucked inside my pocket.