Justin Hall's personal site growing & breaking down since 1994

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death of stone

slept at waller and fillmore emptyroom alone slighly cold
steuer and the new cyborganic
sleeping at swarthmore in a room only sort of mine
becomes a lincoln I am driving to a place for sleep

I am in a gym class playing soccer, sergio is there
it is become too violent, people are hurting themselves.
I call an end to it, the female older latina teacher uses a gunny sack of popcorn we draw out a piece to tell our future.
mine is long and thin,
I am a genius

I go to stone's office
she is plugged in sitting up looking through her computer stuff
concerning and harried over drug interactions
she is sick, been assigned too many drugs, two are in conflict
she doesn't feel too well
we gets in a bmw and drive through the middle of school;
I get outside and walk along with her sometimes
sometimes ride
she's critiquing me for not being in it with her
she is further suffering
she stops her car at her house and when she returns the car is become overfilled with tissues and blankets'
the car then spirals off downwards
she is gone
and I am alone in a beautiful house
listening and watching in my minds eye a tape or some psychic transmission she has prepared
the wonders she has seen in her life
her students
the coming of the web
I am crying, weeping
a semi-sympathetic rastafarian priest approaches and hugs me
I am weeping torrents
his child is there.
the death of stone

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