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where do you come from? she asked me and i told her, to the best of my abilities, where i was from. i said i was born in the hell-oases of American heaven. that i materialized from the shrieking avalanche of velocity itself that i must have simply started to move at some Point and howled at the emptiness around that begged my primordial step. i told her that howl was my father and the Emptiness, my mother that the pain of Eden being born, razed and made fallow time and time again had welled up a deep desire in me to die to forget, and start again new. when i told her i was adopted and that i didn't really know my parents, she laughed and shot me a glance that knew. i spoke about layers laid down by Aphrodite's own gemchildren of their soft kisses on my soft teen skin how i came out of a hole that ripped in that skin and met up with myself again and glad to be new. she looked upon me the kindest when i told her i forged myself in tinny pattering etudes on guitars, strung in patient worksmanship, and balanced the grave humanity and its facts so grave on shoulders that had begun to shiver deeply i'll never forget it, she looked at me with the most profound empathy. you never were she said, and she spoke the slow truth.
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Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 3:00 AM UTC
slow truth
where do you come from? she asked me and i told her, to the best of my abilities, where i was from. i said i was born in the hell-oases of American heaven. that i materialized from the shrieking avalanche of velocity itself that i must have simply started to move at some Point and howled at the emptiness around that begged my primordial step. i told her that howl was my father and the Emptiness, my mother that the pain of Eden being born, razed and made fallow time and time again had welled up a deep desire in me to die to forget, and start again new. when i told her i was adopted and that i didn't really know my parents, she laughed and shot me a glance that knew. i spoke about layers laid down by Aphrodite's own gemchildren of their soft kisses on my soft teen skin how i came out of a hole that ripped in that skin and met up with myself again and glad to be new. she looked upon me the kindest when i told her i forged myself in tinny pattering etudes on guitars, strung in patient worksmanship, and balanced the grave humanity and its facts so grave on shoulders that had begun to shiver deeply i'll never forget it, she looked at me with the most profound empathy. you never were she said, and she spoke the slow truth.
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Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 3:00 AM UTC
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