

boxes.boxes. / pm / 11102003boxes.
bzzzzzzt – bzzzzzzt – bzzzzzzt.
It’s been so cold lately. September, the very peak of the rainy season was upon me. Tonight’s one of the coldest night yet this year, and it hasn’t stopped raining since this morning.
bzzzzzzt – bzzzzzzt – bzzzzzzt.
I’ve been walking in this mall for about an hour now, and I could feel my cellphone vibrating in my pocket.
bzzzzzzt – bzzzzzzt – bzzzzzzt.
I let it ring a bit more, just to be sure.
“Speak.” I said.
“Oh, Hi Red!” A perky girl’s voice,


drillheaddrillhead. / pm / 09062003drillhead
I’m a drillhead. I have a drill for a head. I drill holes. That’s what I do.
Last night we were talking about dreams. So maybe that’s a lame conversation, but I was engaged in it. Two nights before, I dreamt of me being a drillhead. I dreamt of other people, but I kept poking holes in their faces; They died. It’s kind of depressing, actually. It’s symbolic of one in need of something, of love or something like it, but when it arrives the one in need kills it. All she said was it would make for
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'Drawing is the honesty of the art. There is no possibility of cheating. It is either good or bad.'
Salvador Dali
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My Sketchblog
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My Sketchblog
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" new reason to live inside a world of AnimE " -weagent2.0-
08/20/04
1:09pm
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Comment, to get comments.
Share your kindness, not your hate.
Love the art, before yourself.
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Comment, to get comments.
Share your kindness, not your hate.
Love the art, before yourself.
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Comment, to get comments.
Share your kindness, not your hate.
Love the art, before yourself.
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