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March 21, 2001
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| Unbeknownst | |
| No beginning no end the idea is to make packets my hands smell like skunk I wish I could wear long braids I wish I could wear long robes Clarity? what's that no one knows where to find me my hands smell like dust I fell out of a dream onto the carpet I made a mockery of Awareness the idea is to practice the idea is to make a garlic broth my hands smell like a ghost |
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