
Google's omnipresent surveillance: house of my childhood. Waltzing mathilda train whistle cricket song....nights are long in the St. Louis suburb. (Homage to William S. Burroughs sci-fi masterpiece 'The Ticket that Exploded'; (any others out there take the sacred metafictional bullet?)
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Look im busy. I dont know if and when i will reply. Sorry if my post offended. Life is strange.