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3 years ago • 1 noteThe Weakerthans - One Great City!
And I’m finding that time is a currency for me, something to be traded and bartered for. Each day is a trip to the farmers market, different tasks, obligations, hobbies, desires, vendors hawking wares. Sleep is like the beggar sitting at the gate, blind and old, tin can held out by a shaking hand.
“I’m sorry, all I have left is these two hours to give you, but you can have em. Here.”
