The End of the Fucking World

They finally sanitized my specific type of nineties indie downer. No decade was good, I’m just undergoing the process of

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Polaroids in a Crisper: Empress of Chlorine swiping her Mascara like a Credit Card despite the Lack of Tears and Shiny as Some Budding, Lavender Dick-Vein Razed via Electrolysis

The nineties shut down around its edematose end-region as music became one shared atrophy. Mark Romanek, master of veneer, music

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