Wednesday, April 18, 2012


An abstract thinker floating free of a useful output. Data looping incessantly, relentlessly, incestuously stimulating the desire to be stimulated. Too much input, asynchronous, bad sectors. I come online when she turns on. "I don't want to work in a hot dog stand, be a bus boy, messenger, or a dull man."

Cash is on the table. They've taken the bed. Pull up my pants. Time to read, write, and execute.


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