finding_a_way_to_die raze i have almost nothing left to look_forward to in life. in most of my dreams i'm more of a participant — the ghost of something unresolved. i want to leave my voice on imagination's doorstep. i'm going to investigate the idea that dashed lives are luminaries. here is where i think my entire collection of satire resides, within a tiny pattern of time. sooner or later i would have to abandon my thermonuclear self. raw, ravaged, real — this is all i need to feel. even a man who's searching for something might be called a different creature by his body in a cage. 250826 what's it to you? who go blather from