bridgecity's Diaryland Diary

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houses on hills

being sick is something. i can appreciate it as much as the next unemployed person, yet wince at the thought of there being something wrong with my body. something cellular. i've been walking around the streets of my old neighborhood late at night recalling the time when there were no houses there but mine and how they all sprung up like marijhuanna plants in a mexican greenhouse. i know much about many places in several cities i have resided in. houses have long stories.

2:41 p.m. - 2005-03-08

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