Thursday

Milk and honey.

Don’t go golf.

No.

Yes.

Why not.

Because I don’t want you to.

Ok.

Ok.

I went to golf. But I wish I hadn’t. I should always not go when I have the chance. Always not go because you are free. You are free because you do nothing. You can do nothing because you are free.

I do not remember the rain but only the black thunder which the perverse fog covered, and my dog who was like an old man, sick and slithering, said, well, why don’t you give me a treat. Then it rubbed its tongue all over my face and I puked in his mouth.

linear continuity. What’s that.



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