Showing posts with label memories of my melancholy whores. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memories of my melancholy whores. Show all posts
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Futures
I live in a colonial house, on the sunny side of San Nicolas Park, where I have spent all the days of my life without wife or fortune, where my parents lived and died and where I have proposed to die alone, in the same bed in which I was born and on a day that I hope will be distant and painless.
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