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from: Sir Edmund Plovos
209.100.18.158
1/11/00
5:00:10 PM
There is no perfection in anything, but never cease to demand it. My timing was the result of dull inklings, pestering, gnawing from one of the many unmarked chasms within my mind. The leaking of my pen is a rarity, fantasies of cat mutilations even more so. Whatever brief mingling of thought we may have encountered was significant enough to dislodge a stalactite of inspiration in me. Intriguing.
