outwait outrun outwit





TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: elsewhere :: profile


10.19.02, saturday noon

Quite odd. I woke up furrow-browed, hands fisted around the savage desire to destroy. Something. Anything. Little things and big things. With my bare hands, heavy hammers, a knife. Language, at this point, seems grossly inadequate.




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