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Last post: in their own right. On days that my mind won't rest and my thoughts keep interrupting one another I hear things quite differently. Each encounter, each observation suddenly has a new, veiled meaning. Whether this meaning is authentic or not, I do not know. On these days, all that I see and each empirical judgment I make, parallels a soundtrack of complete incongruity. And that’s the beauty of them.
Published: 10 months, 2 weeks ago (Thu, 29 Jan 2009 21:11:39 PST); 383 bytes
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