Sunday, June 05, 2011
Thursday, June 02, 2011
My dreams are not usually very surreal . . .
Last image before waking this morning: A suburb out of Edward Scissorhands, no trees, no clouds, only cookie-cutter houses all in a row, but where I live is a giant skull with a wide, endless stream of brown ants pouring out of its mouth and funneling into the road.
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