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2003-07-21 | 4:51 p.m.
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I have a pistachio trapped in a shell trapped in my mouth thrapped in this body trapped on the internet

Get rich quicks schemes. Never work again schemes. Animal portriature and send you mail schemes. This is the first summer that i am summering, as a verb, as leisure, minus the yacht and the Hamptons, plus flippers and suf shorts. Plus Walden pond and 134 Fujichrome Provia slides of all of you underwater, in bed with hobbits, dressed in subtle drag, sand in your cracks, on bikes, eating, etc. I don't want to pack. I'm having preemtive separation anxiety from my Caselogic when the day comes that I tear it from my bosom and deposit it desparately in the trash in the wake of the newest digital format. Maybe the next step is a plug for my nerual super highway. Damn progress. I've wilingly downgraded my status of artist to craftsperson. I feel the work is more noble, more honest. Married people are multiplying like amoebas, Out of the blue. "The Blue"?

See,one day and I'm trapped on this crazy web of souls. I can't find my way out! Please turn on your computer and tell me to come to the light! Air! I need air!


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