Whatever became of the moment when one first knew about death? There must have been one, a moment, in childhood when it first occurred to you that you don't go on for ever. It must have been shattering--stamped into one's memory. And yet I can't remember it. It never occurred to me at all. What does one make of that? We must be born with an
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Well, maybe more reflective than creeped out, but you get the idea.....
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I remember you really liking Waiting for Godot, so if you get time, you should really check out this one (Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead) as well--very similar.
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Music for Pat:
Os Mutates
Shapes & Sizes
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