Thursday, Sept. 02, 2004 - 1:56 p.m.
The lights are dimmed for faces glowing headphones on group meditation to Hollywood and the wonder of travel. Little bottles and little pills for little comfort. Flex your feet and wrap your blanket and be a bullet in the air only going forward. In twelve hours you will be somewhere else. In twelve hours you will never come back home. You make me want to touch your twilight.
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