Ongoing:
The sparrow’s wardrobe is beaten but breathing. He’s on our land...
One way to degrade-ultimately-destroy the dynamism of capital.
Otherwise, there’s only perpetration and fortune to hide.
After homesickness, there’s new inebriation
running a tab, also a little
suffering a little moving in with my
parents (the boiler room) because they like me...
I just don’t worry: It’s the best 3 dimensions
money can buy breaking into immense mist clots .. hard
to reformulate .. (It’s up in the air. The property goes on while.)