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Wednesday, June 09, 2010

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Nice one, man! "And his tears were mud and his eyes sparkled with flakes of mica and fools gold." really solid stuff. Sweeps along wonderfully.

And when he saw them - the ones with their own map and shovels - his heart would feel like activated thermite and ribbons of mud would run down his cheeks again.

Ohhhhh, YES.

What Jett said? Ditto.

Charlie: One of my favs.

Oh my god, Charlie. That was perfection.

Or, to coin someone else's phrase...Dude. Goddamn.

You know, a zen teacher once told me this story except your version is more mud-caked and I don't think he mentioned the shit house rat.

I like your version.

. . . between his dreams and his doubts. Absolutely beautiful.

the story leaks like mercury

we are lucky to let it seep in

Good shit.

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