Mirrors and echos. I went to Liberia today and I think it all started in Baltimore.
If you want to trip, just research Liberia's origins, the constitution, etcetera.
I was in a room of mirrors for less than ten minutes today.
I haven't wanted to see photographs of myself. I feel like an ogre. I wear green like shrek.
I listen to the tiny fan in my computer and the crickets outside and I know there is more to life.
Echos, mirrors, smoke.
Smoke and mirrors.
I googled a quote from a friend today and it came up as Dadaist poetry.
And I am NOT AT ALL SURPRISED.
I'm pleased.
The party flopped, it was an all-out failure, and I am not angry.
It was what I expected.
I was able to be a friend because that's my role in the thing.
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