beauty
it is a beautiful place. as i sit here, i see gently sloping hills covered with red wheat ready for harvest. although i have been away from the estuaries for many years, it thrills me as the faint scent drifts upwards. soon, the world will know what we have done, that we have piled ossa on pelion and still fallen short of olympus. we are all fakes, we are all the purveyors of dream and drug and now, disillusionment is to be our stock in trade.
this was written @ 6:00 AM
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