“Then I fell into the slipstream of memory,” he says. And I’m just nodding because he’s making a weird kind of sense that dances up my spine, all wispy electric current.
Alls I can figure is it’s like when someone asks me if I recall some faded moment and I lick my finger and hold it up to the breeze so as to better hear those brief staticky memories.
- BROWSE / IN TIMELINE
- « a quiet red alert.
- » one last dispatch before the desert.
- BROWSE / IN Psychedelicatessen
- « sometimes a big bang is just another creation myth.
- » thoughts rising like jellyfish.
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