Sometimes it comes to me, walking along the sidewalks of Lindsay in lone summer evenings – times that are just for myself - my long felt urge for passionate crimes - nonsensical love to strangers having yellow teeth - the wanton for Isolde to come and a Tristan to emerge out of recognition with all unfathomable desires, unexplained blemishes and invincible perversions of an ultimate lover!
I walk down the choppy streets grazing through those no good shops, the frustrated hawkers masturbating with their bundles in crowded corners
And
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