2 cups of coffee
one granola bar
one heaping spoonful of 'when she turns gold into gold'
a sprinkle of 'blue skulls'
and small glass of 'ecuador'
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this is the subset of what goes on in my head that is fortunate enough to make the treacherous journey through the nerves in my neck, arms, and hands, down through my fingertips and onto the keyboard, through the wires, the computer, and the network, across the country on fiber optic lines, finding a permanent home in the electric memory of some server in san francisco.
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