"you're trying to write everything down. lay it out. endless three-card solitaire, the canyon-gorged vinyls, every cursed word you've let inside you which began safe then grew, you've written them all, stony in the face of obsession and rage, cuffed to the pursuit, lately, of hobbies which promise to break skin, or slice the pockmarks from the solitude"
— Aug 05, 2025 01:39PM
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