I found this tape. I found this blog. I found this baby in the night. I found this sound.
I found these drapes. I found this sound. I found this burning effigy. I found the wand.
I found a dream, floating in a lake, no a sea, no an ocean, whatever: waves crashing relentlessly.
I found this tape in a garden at midnight, on a barstool left empty, on the plastic seat of a red line train. I found this tape and did not listen.
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