The buildup since last summer. Alcohol, speed, cigarettes, heroin. Buzzcocks; Tom Waits. Perhaps the only way to face down the terror of the blank page, right now, for a time.
Have been living in Lenin for so long. Could be right to live in Dostoyevsky, for a time.
"What about living in Mark Phillips?", she said. Answer: "There is no such thing."
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© 2002-2012 Mark Phillips.
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This writing is fiction. Please don't confuse it with reality.