|I'm my own kind of sick, darlin', . . .
||[Dec. 23rd, 2015|01:20 pm]
Phrembah (a potato-like mystery)
. . . and even if you could save me. I'm not sure I'd want you to. And that has very little to do with but reminds me of "Archive Fever," this syndrome where we try to save everything until the "archive" outweighs the world we thought we were archiving which we also try to document and archive until the whole thing implodes like a black hole sucking up two thirds of it and producing a single yellow flower in an alternate universe that won't even know how to write anything down for another three or four billion years. See, it all takes care of itself if you let it.