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2003-01-19 - 2:15 p.m.

hey the-saurus, sometimes sleeping you drift into guestbooks of guestbooks that soften your landing and cradle you with blankets of words you wore once to a date and in between awkward expressions you think you just might have found what you're looking for. i awake from a too short sleep barely slumber to memories of evening celebration. my day is a blue one with flashbacks of william orbit soundtracks. moving into the sunday of rest and reflect you are now a phase older and your time in this indentity is running out. soon you slip into abyss sheeths of the infinte. thats right solar. all possibilities exist. they always have. you think you know what you're doing until you don't then you do. then really you don't. and it is the release of that when you do.

i was sailing down to the sea on a board built of varnished fortune cookie fortunes. i was telling everyone the story of love through a megaphone that filtered untruths. it was an old story of time and equation. it was the story of you and me. i was dancing beneath you when you began to play me a flower of melody petals you swiped beneath my nose as i moved. i was finding the thread of your frequency and riding like sinewave surf i could coast to the heartbeat and bassline you collected my essence and moved me forward through skin lines and language and into fractals of tranqulity puddles which flicked away from my fingertips and scattered to jupiter like stardust..

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