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One day, one page, one sketch of GREAT EXPECTATIONS, published daily at 8:40 AM.

Posts from the Chapter 43 Category

376I washed the precipitation and the expedition from my face. I washed the monotony, I washed the justification, the harmony, the contradiction, the absurdity, the disambiguation, and the fatality. My clarity of vision now seems mockingly poor.

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375Every explosive emotion around us that emerges and submerges has a mark of grimy flimsiness, a core of pointlessness. Sometimes is best to force yourself to silence.

 

371What’s my narrative? I don’t know. Today I abhor the turpitude of my dreams last night, which were crowded with syrupy specters that were burning my eyes while I was trying to escape the puppet theater of my bodily existence. But tomorrow’s narrative, who knows? In fact, everything may change right after breakfast.