A life off the cuff, a scribbled crib for cheating in the exam, and so it staggers on, this suburban passion play, bad acting and all.
Do you feel a little queasy, a little out of sorts?
You could be out in the snows of Siberia, hunting wolves and swigging peppered vodka; you could be fishing from a little boat on Lake Baikal.
No deposit, no return.
Beauty’s believers have nowhere to hide but themselves. And so we run, we run and hide. Until a sad strange voice calls us home.
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