existential questions. I don’t share that shit.
Your move, always. Not mine. I crawled to daylight
and lifting to the breeze headed in again,
which was where you found me, lamenting
nothing and none.
shepard fairey
ras
ras
ras
ras
ras
ras
ras
gustav dore
our boys
death and burial
wm
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Don’t Ask Me
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