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AgnostoLibertarianTechnoGeek

Sunday, January 01, 2006

How dare he look into my soul?

I'm really not sure if others fail to perceive me or if, one fraction of a second after my face interferes with their horizon, a millionth of a second after they have cast their gaze on me, they already begin to wash me from their memory: forgotten before arriving at the scant, sad archangel of a remembrance.

Ariel Dorfman, Mascara, 1988

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