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Landi Cruz

Updated: Fri, 22 Mar 2024 06:40 pm

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A sometimes writer looking to momentarily escape the constraints of the mundane. A sometimes believer in the integral nature of paradox in the fabric of existence. A sometimes mute that sometimes chooses to be seen as obtuse amongst those who seem intent on talking "at" rather than "to". Anyhow, the whole point in writing/reading is that we might share.


“My big mistake was love. From this day I swear to stay off of love: hetero, homo, bi, dog or cat, car, every kind there is. I will found a society of isolates, dedicated to this purpose, and this sign, revealed by the same gasoline that almost destroyed me, will be its emblem.” And he did. Oedipa, by now rather drunk, said, “Where is he now?” “He’s anonymous,” said the anonymous inamorato. “Why not write to him through your WASTE system? Say ‘Founder, IA.’” “But I don’t know how to use it,” she said. “Think of it,” he went on, also drunk. “A whole underworld of suicides who failed. All keeping in touch through that secret delivery system. What do they tell each other?” He shook his head, smiling, stumbled off his stool and headed off to take a leak, disappearing into the dense crowd. He didn’t come back. –The Crying Of Lot 49, Thomas Pynchon

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leon stolgard

Tue 12th Mar 2024 21:38

sobered up now-Landi-have come to my senses but ta for comment on my now mad and deleted poem 👍

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