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Jun 07, 2006 02:07

I worked, all week.

The 40 hours my society deems fit for a citizen.

I now watch my girlfriend play dr.mario and I drink lager listening to mission of burma.

Tommorow i drive to wildeness and relax.

And death breathed on me, and now pine forests will.

Ginsberg forgot the wilderness and blood, got lost in the wine and cock.

thats what i think tonite as i pick up' leaves of grass' for the hundredth time and not " planet news ' collection for the 9th time to be wowed, i need to feel small and awed, and not alone,....whitman is the only american poet that makes me american in the greatest sense!

I growing old!...I un-emabarrassed to be from america, or lonely for dirt and forests. I feel un-alone!, unahamed for melocholy, and invigored to walk nowhere.

thank you walt.
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