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Here is the beginning of the book   Chapter I We wake up, and we realize we are on a voyage. That we are traveling in this...
See. See in the glare of the    relight. That stranded creature is you. See the fake claws and plastic fangs. That is your...
this warning  Soon. Very soon. You too will come to realize that your view of the world is partial, small and obscured. It...
Enough of my regurgitation. That cannot be pretty on the page. I have seen and smelled enough of it. And you  Alright, let...
Piece of Interview with Touches-Lightly-like-the-Breeze, the 83 year old Mohawk Indian in the story  How   s yer patriotis...
You gonna capture my voice, Uncle Sam  Put it    n prison   Do you mind   he shook his head grinned  You sher do go ta a l...
Yea, great tits. God, I loved    em. I loved    em.  his face burrowed down into his hands like a small furry animal his s...
when I was with her. All beings  Shit man , I was just focused on her, an    then...I dunno how the fuck this happens, but...
I have spent hours contemplating the implications of my failures during that interview. I want my life back. Or a life. An...
For me, the curtain is parting. I am beginning, slowly, to discern the insanity transpiring in the Congress of my mind, an...
I continue  As Jane walked away Ed yelled, Lady, I don   t want any fuckin    distractions.  then his mind seemed to turn ...
Ed walked calmly among his troops. Cease    re. Cease    re. I waddled down the hill, through the ravine, and up into the ...
If anything ever remains in the memory of the mind of the world, it is the egregious mistakes, the crude silliness and the...
Fuck you. It was awful. Fucked up awful. I ll never forgit. Never. The M-82... These big shells. He held up a .50 caliber ...
Jane cried beyond the boundaries of tears or grief. Asshole. You chauvinistic asshole.  Bobby touched her on the shoulder....
We dropped the goods for shipping at the UPS in Bakers   eld, crossed the treeless, sun-beaten    ats and began the climb ...
I am back into the groove of my painting, accompanied by all the self-doubt and ego endemic to my transit through the jung...
By the end of the appointed time my hand is trembling to again take up the brush. I look at a section of my canvass where ...