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Circulation and other things

Oh this oscillating fan is wondrous, the air smells different, evocative of what i'd imagine a warehouse, bar or long unused hairdresser place would smell like.

The day is coming to a close, and i just love that i can come here and share the ultra-mundane with everyone. There is no good reason to be here, and therefore there is no good reason not to either.

I feel the call of detachment, of more fully just existing in my own realm, if anyone wants to respond that's fine, but i have to be up front and let it be known that i won't be cognizant of what else is going on.

Thus maximizing the potential of being a buffoon, it fills me with great pleasure to pull off not being buffoonish in the long run, i dream of it being like an experimental film, long and minimalist, going well with weed, hash and or LSD, and other things, even coffee, tea, soft Mozart in the background, buildings being demolished, stars crashing into the desert, moon beings having photo ops with politicians and Doctor Who being a male again.

Where was i? I was nowhere!!!

 
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