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| Today we marched on Cannock Chase. We flew in and out of contact seeking vitamins like frenzied hounds, uprooting flesh like truffle-pigs. We scattered them as though they were hens and we ourselves were ferocious infections of scattering hens. In their midst a mad whirling of fire and edges sliced up the circles and curves of our physical influences. We left at least 500 dead or dying, hearts burst through and quivering for the buzzing sun to shrink come morn. What we sought we could not find because there will never be enough. Yet still we press on. Tomorrow we will arrive at Leominster and in a week Las Vegas. |
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