Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Lost in the dungeon. A joblike description.
I find that I'm living. In space.
Occasional contact. The echos of combat.
Ring like a contractul race.
And all of these people. Are dancing in circles.
They try to excape from. The maze.

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After a busy day when confronting admin

 We must all come  Find ourselves And we will all be found Regardless  As the sun finds the morning As breath finds the lungs As I am found ...