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  • 9 hours ago
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  • 12 hours ago
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I like to tell myself I don’t believe in “loved”, past-tense, like the word

does not exist,

but now I’m skidding gripless into the dark ex-phone booth closet 

in the shut-down connection corner of your mind

and there’s a lock there, on the outside waiting for me

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  • #poetic wax #slipping #exist #the limit does not exist #what #phone boo†˙ #closet #lock #loved #poetry #prose poetry #alright
  • 12 hours ago

So I’m taking this blog over
Though I run it anyway.
This is now predominantly a blog for when I decide to wax poetic, with intermittent skate photos, sprinkled-in (but probably more than moderate amounts of) attractive women, some dumb fashion stuff I actually care about, and weird pictures of myself I refuse to call selfies though we all know they probably are.

Thanks, and here goes a lot.

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  • 2 days ago
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  • 5 days ago
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I found myself in the space between us.

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  • 6 days ago
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I think once you’ve thought about how a person sleeps, how they’d feel pressed up against your back, or your head on their chest, how compatible your bodies would be in the same space of a bed — once you’ve thought about that, you’re fucked.

Yep. Pretty much. But in a good way…That is, the best way possible.
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  • 6 days ago
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