do nothing, do everything

drink her.

she was the third beer. i. not the first one, which the throat receives with almost tearful gratitude; ii. nor the second, that confirms and extends the pleasure of the first. iii. but the third, the one you drink because it’s there, because it can’t hurt, and because what difference does it make?

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men into blocks

if you take a flat map and move wooden blocks upon it strategically, the thing looks well, the blocks behave as they should. the science of war is moving live men like blocks. and getting the blocks into place at a fixed moment. but it takes time to mold your men into blocks and flat […]

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