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Friday, 27 March 2015

Kingston, 2013/2014

There's somewhere I go to escape my thoughts to think. (The doorway in the laundry room,)and smoke two thirds of a cigarette to escape the gloom of former lapses trapping me like daisies screaming murder at the lawn mower. Usually crouched like some misdemeanor I mean no hidden guilt arisen, suddenly upstanding my heads hair hits a newly formed spiders web. Why "hello there" Mr. or Miss splendor. I mean you no harm, in fact I attest  to your nature. Excuse me while I empty this bottle upon my spleen and discern you the pleasure that I will not do this again. Upon arrival on the scene (s)he weaves away in nightmarish fantasy wondering, wandering. Sure, your life depends on me remembering whence I came here with respectful intention unknowingly.
So now I feel a new responsibility and connection has allowed itself invention via the universes subtle mention whispering in my ear silently.
I've gained a new friend the spider home maker doorway keeper and blow the smoke well outside. 


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