planes lined up to land at o'hare:
impossible to not walk myself to death tonight. too perfect.
hopefully by the end of the night i'll have mastered torrents and can actually listen to Deathprod instead of listening to my computer reject the files with a "ding".
having a consistent, physical, taste the paste and don't paper cut your tongue pen pal is proving to act as free therapy. i especially like that his typewriter punches out the o's through the paper entirely. some snap it must have. i think i can hear it.
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