porn, super porn
2004-02-26 | 2:10 p.m.

I drive down the same roads often, and I wonder how many of the exact same people I have driven along side of before. When I worked at Dell, I would often call someone, only to find out that they had died the week before. Existence is tenuous. I often feel as though life is too strict and austere, abnormally so, and wouldn't a world in which we could breathe underwater be more fun? You could die and come back. Often I feel like all of the thoughts in my brain are pushing outwards. If I could do anything in the entire world, I would go straight to when my parents met, at a christmas party in 1982. My parents were so dreadfully, horrendously wrong for each other; I would have pulled my tipsy mother into a closet. A lot of bad things happened because my parents met and I have hopes and dreams of averting them. In a littered landscape of discarded cocktail glasses and used napkins, my father found out my mother's identity and the next day at work, she had three dozen yellow roses waiting for her. The next week, they went to Acapulco together. Two months later, I was accidently conceived, they decided to get married, now they're dead. In their wedding picture, they look profoundly unmoved. If you look at my mother's belly, I'm somewhere inside.

this box is kind of like a window, and sometimes I close the curtains.

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