mangler

found an oddball thought resting on the breakfast nook and suddenly i'm spinning in spirals made for lichen angels and turning circles in carparks and not finding not needing what i find. i remember this dream i had, an aching long bit of melodrama about a friend of mine (who i'm fairly certain doesn't exist in real life) who was in some kind of trouble, leaning towards a kind of madness no one knows, further.

i survived, but he was left mangeled mind in whispers by the mossy groun where i first found him. sometime i am the mangled mind.

2004-03-10 | 1:09 p.m.
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