Second Weekend
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Here we go again
Saturday morning, another Saturday. I feel that I am alone, defending my psychic space and hiding myself away, passive. Bubble, flow, something brews and I am kept here is a Oija board of mental association. Tentatively taking the answers from all the people that are inside the buildings on the moon. They have moustaches and wear puffy suits, their hair blowing in the solar wind as they drive their buggies back and forth.