Tuesday, 8 March 2011

The Surplus of Postcards


I'm sick of sitting around, waiting for shit to happen. Or I guess, waiting to get my shit together. I've got these dark circles under my eyes, and all I want to see is those dirty roads, those reservations with 'Meth Kills' sprayed up onto concrete dance hall walls. I want the American West, not this town, this place, this time.

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