mummified_remains raze there's no doubt that these bones are supposed to go together. i can feel it in the curve of their bodies. the artist retires when a small amount of luck's lineal hope ties itself next to your paper shredder. green cap of ashtray breathes wordless letters. you were fine before yesterday. every day before that sounded like a dream. this could be the end. but stick with it. 250607 what's it to you? who go blather from