And Milo, full of thoughts and questions, curled up on the pages of tomorrow's music and eagerly awaited the dawn.

.::.The Phantom Tollbooth.::.



As I write, remembering what I saw this morning, it transiently seems to me that my writing about photosynthesis, pencil scratching across the pages of my notebook in the fading evening light, is photosynthesis writing about itself.

.::.Nicholas Harberd.::.



These bitches spend the night eating ass and sucking dick and then call themselves vegan.

.::. Shortbus .::.