Sometimes it feels like I've been stuck down here for years. Way down in a hole where the feeble tentacles of light cannot penetrate. Nails split on small rocks while digging through the dirt. Here in my burrow, safe from the vultures.
I've been reading a strange combination of books recently,
Rich Dad, Poor Dad and
Hardcore Zen. Result: I'm
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I did keep on imagining that it was capacitance who was writing it. The picture on the side with the Misfits shirt is a classic Deeming style ;)
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