42417
It’s all slipping. It’s sliding. Incongruous. Untoward outwardly forward. Mellifluous. I put my skin on backwards to see myself from the inside, out. I wonder what went through that medical supervisor’s mind when his employee shot him. “Hey, this is what I am on the inside.” I don’t know. It’s fucking tragic. I dislike quite a few people, and I have some former employers I despise, but to take a life over some job? Poor soldiers. Taking lives is their job. I like the smell of lilacs and jasmine. Fragrances are soothing. Nuclear winters in Korea. Skiing in a HASMAT. … Continue reading 42417
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