And the best things that happen to us


are the worst things that happen to us–and I don’t know anything about the polite thing to do or the people with the gray hair–we don’t think too hard–or look too closely–because the illusion of an American Dream– is the the see-through-seed-we-choose-to-choke-to-death on– and people eat–pray–smoke–then they recall–the next day–yesterday– and its the same, day–after day. We thought, of course, that it would be different.


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