...
Retro fashions, and stately issues.
Many borrowed thoughts regarding delightful studies of echoed spaces.
The name now known, that macabre picnic.
Hide and seeking in epic proportions, mailing the comments away.
Extended responses to multiple questions, specialising in distraction, squeaking, and the method of obtaining half-price dim-sims.
The lost scene; the environmental destruction; something about New Zealand and arranged marriages.
3 hours and two seconds. are you alive?
9 hours 7 minutes. are you hungry?
Secretive codes in plain view.
where did the time go?
Three hypothetical Omegos; One Two Three?
what's this place? I'll never know.
Simon > Sam , pr( |Z| < c) = 2a-2; 0 < c < 3,
we had too much time.
toys and fast black cars; sleeking past.
judgeless assumptions; the things of ideal worlds.
too much of anything is too much?
the hour + 1 in the warmth never hurt anyone.
If you really knew; you know it would be something else.
we fought like tomorrow was promised.
Cheese Flour Honey Water Butter Salt GladWrap Envelope + E
Mid way down night road; desolate factories lit-up like Christmas trees, and the elves are in full force too.
RED YELLOW YELLOW RED, recycled thoughts of plastic boxes with wheels,
OPEN said the shop; and the quiet guilt laden many file in through the discrete amber threshold.
The world can see you.
Live.


H.