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May. 18th, 2005

Woke up to pets wanting attention and food. Appeased their needs, then have been sort-of awake. Talked with athenaloba on the phone for a bit until the batteries went out. Made popcorn. Surfed uninteresting porn. Thought about watching bad asian horror movies. Need to sleep. Feeling disconnected. It don't mean a thang if it ain't got that swang.

Dancing with the random reaver, my soul sings soprano in a bottle let loose upon the ocean.

She smiles with the eyes of a predator, her touch like cold silk. "You smell like food," she says, "And that is a very, very good thing".

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