TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER
an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
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Seemingly chronic unemployment has introduced me to idling in parks and hours-long sunning on the first days of early spring. Sipping coffee for no good reason, I watch blossoms trickle from gnarled trees, unto damp pavement and spiky shadow. I stretch my arms out to get my daily dose of vitamin D, thinking, Why don't I have more days like this, huh?