4-12-97

(Another short one from the ’97 vault. I was living in Lawrence at this time. Lots of fun. Lots of drunken writing also. This one is tolerable amidst piles of garbage I have sifted through tonight.)

 

Fear — so strange.

Society instills…

Society accepts…

Fear.

 

Which is worse: Death or Fear of Death?

You tell me.

I don’t know…

yet.

 

Fear — a song

ringing through the trees.

Fear — so wrong.

Repressing inhibitions.

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