the way things go

[impartial]

Lines of memory find their way through certain anchors that we place around us. We stumble upon photographs that make the walls recede into past visions, a record spinning on the turntable resurrects familiar dance moves and sweaty faces. The past few months, I've been forcibly keeping these stimulators at bay, paranoid about avoiding artifacts of

Comments

[angelush]

Let me just say how proud and happy I am for you for all the things that you've done and will do. I still remember that shy boy who walked 3 feet ahead of me at Old Orchard mall. You're wonderful. Send me a fucking postcard, bitch!

XOXO
Allan, aka mister neurotic