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Army Men

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Sep. 21st, 2009 | 12:19 am

It is hard going through the motions of life. Doing things you did before because you just don’t have any idea what else to do. And you start to become painfully clear of the difference between the two having once did them for someone who mattered. And the pain of losing them is like a dripping faucet that just won’t fucking stop.

I find myself sometimes standing in my apartment unsure exactly of how long I have been there, staring at nothing in particular. As if her absence has ripped invisible voids all through my world that I wander into and get trapped.

I think I remember being a little boy once. I would play all day in the sandbox and nothing else mattered. All I have now are my tears and you just can’t grab a hold of them no matter how hard you try - can’t sculpt them into 2” castles and wage imaginary wars. All you can do is sit and watch them turn into salt.

I am an alchemist.
I am a master.

Underneath the sun all things eventually burn away.

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