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Prose of a Con

Poetry and Prose by Russell Wardlow

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Russell Wardlow

Black Matters

May 7, 2019 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

My Black skin
matter of fact
My Black Hyde!
thick!
like a
shield
force field
coat
cloaked
chain mill
armor
piercing like an archer
distilled in ardor
with history written within like an author
but art thou, both art and artist?
but I’ve been arsoned
parsed
partitioned
departed
though I sheen like Black diamonds in apartheid
and I may part tides
but still,
I’m seen as ape-parts
torn a-part
born in a-partments
enslaved in com-partments
caged in de-partments
arms raised, to say I’m not armed, until you see arm pits
because me-target
if you wanna see, how deep heart gets
don’t read deepak,
reincarnate of tupac
when you listen to me speak, I heat, then refreeze, thee arctic
I may get views yet viewed, as a beast or the least, to say the least
no figure of speech,
I WAS as a figurine, and they tried to figure me, by trying to figure my speech
yet My speech, can reach thee farthest
and still teach thee smartest
energy in my being, being anything, but lee-thargic!
although I still may be seen as low as thee carpet
how many times will I contort and conform til they see arm twist?
but no more
seeing me as a marred nomad of no matter!
because I,
yes I,
matter!
so I lather
this face,
this real, true, resilient, strong and thorough ‘unpainted’ black face,
in the reality of my Own truth
not historic traumas and modernized ways of saying “I Own you”
Man, in the mirror
no!
Black Man, in the mirror
my vows are
I.Owe.yoU
because you’ve been either alien or alias aligned with ‘all lies’
not allies
deceiving your Own eyes
but you are no more a marred nomad of no matter
because now,
I.Know.You!
Black, isn’t a name for separation
Black, is more than debates of reparations
Black, is more than being politicized with every new administration
Black, once integrated, shouldn’t instigate, instant hatred!
amidst imitations
sullied, by Black face
but this, Black Face, is not pixeled, made up, painted, nor stenciled, but pigmented beauty,
on this
Black Man
Black Master
Black Mosaic
Black Knight
Black King
Black Artist
Black Art
Black Painting
Black Poet
Not
a Black mystery
nor
Black misery
and more than just
Black matter
so Black Man in the mirror,
just remember-
That Black skin,
Your Black hyde
because
Black,
matters!
even when the moment you are born becoming a statistic,
Black matters
even when you’re shaded with stereotypical characteristics,
Black matters
even when parts of your history and past is too hard to revisit,
Black matters
even when you feel like a misfit,
and while being a misfit,
reports say you still fit the description, conviction!
Black matters
even when your name becomes embroidered in digits,
Black matters
you are the only one that needs convincing,
then it will convince them
so never look in the mirror and ask ‘who is it’
because Black man,
you matter!

Filed Under: Culture, Mercy

I saw my Dad for the first time

May 7, 2019 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

I saw my dad for the first time
I wonder if who I am now, would’ve made you proud?
I saw my dad for the first time
I wonder how my life would’ve been different, if you were around?
I saw my dad for the first time
I wonder if you would’ve seen yourself, inside of my smile?
I saw my dad for the first time
I wonder what words you’d have told me, when ever I was down?
I saw my dad for the first time
I wonder what it would’ve been like, seeing you cheer me on in the stands?
I saw my dad for the first time
I wonder what you would’ve taught me most, about being a man?
I saw my dad for the first time
and I just noticed, that you never held me in your hands?
I saw my dad for the first time
but he’s never seen me, I just got a picture of him, he’s been dead 30 years, I’m 30…damn, we never had a chance!
…
and I hate him for it, you hear me?! I hate you dad!
I really don’t, I’m just really mad
thinking of the moments and possibilities, We Never had
and that I grew up NEVER uttering the word Dad
why did you mess up?!
I want to blame you as if you’re the reason why I’m so messed up?!
my mom had to deal and live through that guilt, wilting becoming lesser
after 30 years I met my brother, but not your family maybe that’s for the better
because I’m probably so much like you, that all I’ll ever do is cause them pain
maybe the memory, maybe the visual, maybe my personality, or maybe the fact my grieving mother gave me your name!
my whole life has been a blanket of shame!
what if that night never happened?!
what if I didn’t grow up repressing shit, depressed and lost in a rage like you
afflicted by violence liquor and the beer taste like you
demons I battled, with too many shadows I had to chase like you
I never knew you, but I ended up putting my hands on a woman’s face like you!..
I’ve failed so far as a father being distant and unavailable just like you!
speaking of being a father, I never had an example!
you lost it after life got outside of what you had planned and could handle
where you at dad?!
is heaven even real?!
would you even go considering the reason you were killed?
I just got close to God, and I don’t even have a clue
I don’t know if I should be looking up or looking down when I’m thinking of you
but I smiled so big when I saw your picture, you was a handsome dude
it made me proud to know that, still chasing vanity even in a somber mood
I think I really love you, though I don’t know how
I guess that gives me hope for gaining forgiveness and love from both my sons one day when I’m out
I look at you everyday..but you never talk back
you have shades on your face like I always do, in many ways we match
I heard my voice is soft like yours, ironically chasing things that I’ll never see and believing them as facts
but that’s the makings of faith
I try to make sense of myself when I’m facing your face
I get lost in your picture and somehow I believe that I know you
I guess you have a look that I’ve searched for my whole life that’s just so easy to go to
I bet you would’ve understood me huh? I’m 50 shades of your ingredients
spent so long searching for meanings and reasons that years became seasonless
but I finally saw you for the first time…and I can see you forever now
it’s easier this way anyway, because a picture can never let you down…

Filed Under: Love, Trauma

Codependency

April 30, 2019 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

I wrote this poem and read it to a few people, it captivated them, I read it to another person that also is a poet, though I don’t consider myself a poet but he asked if I had a title, and I said no, not really, its kind of a performance poem…and he said this should be named codependency. Because that’s what he hears and he spoke on the importance of women, especially young women seeing this because the very real nature of toxic love becoming a codependency doing more harm than good. He asks his daughter, do you love him or are you just used to him? It’s a thin line between love and hate, but love is on one side, is something he also said. I wrote this knowing the truth it had been in most of my relationships, a cycle I loved but needed to fall out of love with. I used to think crazy love meant you loved more, but that’s not true..so I hope you can really read this and get something out of it because for me, relationships were always my trigger, either needing them closer or needing that closure. Emotions blur lines, what you may believe you are seeing clearly, you aren’t, that’s your fear of loneliness more often than not. Be brave, step back, and re-evaluate, because the loss of love may hurt you, but love doesn’t hurt

“Codependency”
I love love
I love you, love
but love, your love is killing me!
slowly..
you killin Me!
you killin me Slow!
you killin me Slow!…ly
sounds of glass chandeliers
marble vases
life sized mirrors
ceiling to floor windows
all combusting and shattering at once
added with the desperate sound of nails torturously dragging across the chalk board agonizingly slow to the point of insanity
mixed with the shrill screams of your voice in my head telling me that I’m worthless, you hate me, you regret us, but you..love.. me?
ahhhh, fuck! I love too!
trapped inside of this house of hoarded noises and horrors
as if we are inside the box of Pandora!
pandemonium is a regiment
panoramic malevolence
panorama of medicine
pan the cameras to catch the very moment you wouldn’t let me in
pointless pictures, a million hollow smiles reflected within our rusted frames
you know I tried but I’m teetering a cliff and you driving me crazy! i’ll swerve forreal! what?! you think that I wont?!
no
yes
stop
go
please
no thanks
forget it
forget you
remember I love you
I hate you
take me back
take that off
take it back
take this
take that
all you do is take!
take a hike!
what will it take?
take your time..
well take off then!
take 3!
let’s try this again..
look, I’ve messed up, ok I’m messed up
a torrent of text messages meshed with a plethora of ignored calls
then our verbal brawls
your words are scars
which reflect my flaws
I built up walls
you break them down, then break me down, back up!
rifle directed at you
ruger directed at me
I’m speaking metaphorically, love, we’re killing each other
or maybe you’re just killing me
did I fall in love or in obligation
fearing how you’d handle my departure and having to cope with the aches of loneliness more than the brevity of patience
until you’ve known love you don’t have any idea what pain is
lost looking for the right one, but what if they do not exist
at least I have you hear, and you have me, it’s not settling
every land is occupied by settlers, its how we build a home and a family
you remind me of so many things that I can never let go of
we’re one in the same
feigning fangs of ferocity and fear
its a thin line between love and life
symbolized within three fine thin strikes
across my wrist
tattoos of my affection passion and strength
and I dedicated it to you, you like it?
I couldn’t afford you roses or your name
but all roses wilt and tattoos get lazored off but this, THIS will forever remain
what a coincidence, we’re like twins, yours looks the same!
toast, to your love, whether potion or poison
tears enhance the taste of champagne
blood blends better in red wine
yea, we’re so crazily refined
love, we been through enough and came too far to give up
laughing remembering those times we should’ve and tried to, but never gave up
but what a beautiful massacre life and love is
inhaling your toxins, sipping your venom and swallowing the poisonous bliss of each other
I’m numb to it, calloused by the jagged edges of mutilation
finding relief in the moments you slow things down and
kill me slow, because I rather you do it then me…
what can I say, life is dark, love is light and I rather die illuminated
I love love, and you love it too
but do you love me…too?
because I.
still.
love.
you…
—
“I feel the storm”
I hear the storm
do u hear the storm
I feel the storm
I feel we’ve been warned
I feel like I’m cold,
and then I feel warm
I keep trying to change,
because I feel worn
I feel like I’m swarmed
but this is my norm
I try to do good, to deflect your harm
reach out with your arm
but the distance is more than your arm
sometimes we’re both off, and then we’re both on
and then I go off, and you just go on
then one of us yawns…
we been at this since dawn
why drag this on?
then you wave your arm,
like a magic wand
like I will be gone
and if I turn away…
then you play that song
that had us both drawn
I’m flattered but mad at your attitude
you take the avenue
I take the alley, but we both turn around like we inside a cul-de-sac
and meet on the street where this started at
I raise my starter cap
then you hook your hair
behind your ear
we put our cars out of gear
the headlights shine bright thru our windshield
we both looking forward
like we both want this
so we open our doors
and we walk thru the rain
we’re soaked in our pain
but live for this moment when we stand in both lanes
and kiss away all our shame
and all of those names
and all of the thangs
that had us both drained
because we’re both vane
although it won’t last…
so when we let go
its a thing of the past
and its on a string
that we won’t cut off
because love, isn’t something that we can just shrug off
we both feel the storm
but if we stay stuck together, then we can keep warm

Filed Under: Love, Spirit, Trauma

A Movie Moved Me

April 19, 2019 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

A Movie Moved Me
I heard this movie line that said, ” you are always looking in the past, you won’t find me there, I’m here” and it made me think, what am I looking for, what am I chasing, and I realized none of it could be found in my past, regardless if it was founded on that past…so I had to move forward, but how?
#1 got comfortable identifying my emotions and sharing them
#2 found something higher than myself
#3 saw beyond what I look at
#4 embraced more than what I touched
#5 honest with myself until it hurts, because truth and pride can’t coexist
This helped me get my mind focused on being the father and man I want to be now not later. Things I learned during this evolution of self is
#1 people don’t have enough patience or humility to be both student and teacher, or they are too blind to perceive the advantages of both, so they can only be one or the other
#2 people don’t have a real grip for the non material(spiritual) impact on life, they are so surface and self absorbed, and end up in the same cycle
#3 people don’t understand that words speak reality, they will either heal or harm ourselves, others, and our outlook
Now, I’m looking forward, I’ve found everything there
—

Pioneer
Trailblazer
Icon
Mogul
Activist
Humanitarian
Philanthropist
All public servants in their own ways, whether serving you respite from the stresses of life or allies fighting for and with you navigating the human condition and inequalities. These are all things that we either aspire to be, or people that inspire us. We can all be that and more, with Belief and Understanding. Belief in ourselves, and Understanding where those Beliefs can take us. How they can drive us and build a foundation to which we can architect monumental platforms that bridge gaps, create unity, and serve people. Because that’s what leadership is all about, a position of service from a vantage point that can look out beyond and reach out even further than most. Let’s say you held out your hand, turned your palm facing up and open…what do you see in your hand? The wrong answer is ‘nothing’. The cliché overly optimistic answer is ‘opportunity’. But with a little Understanding of physics, then you would know that because of gravity weighing down on you, that you are actually holding the world…the weight of the world is in your hand. It’s called cosmic displacement, the universe made a space for you to insert your hand out into it, and now you are in fact, holding the world. If you Believe that, then what you now have and can begin to Understand is, the truth and impact of Perception, Power, Knowledge, Wisdom, and Understanding. Perception creates our reality, Power is in the eye of the beholder, and the triage of Knowledge, Wisdom, and Understanding are the vital routes that direct us throughout life. If you can fathom your existence, and Understand the impact that you can have, and Believe in that Power that you wield, strong enough to hold the weight of the world, then with that empowered Perception of your reality you can begin to value yourself, your voice, and the might of your hand even more and in doing so, affect change. Who you are, what you have to say, and the works performed by your hand are what we are voting for to be represented the best way possible, and the only way we can make a change, is to become that Power, that force and might of change in your community. That’s why it is important to vote, not with a cult-like blind loyalty of one party, but of our conscience, independently, because no one party has every answer, in most ways, they will fail us, so we vote for what we know of our own needs. It starts in our states, voting on the grass roots level for those that will lead and represent us where we live then throughout our country. You have to Believe and Understand the Power in your hand, and the importance of that Perception, then you can improve on your reality. Remember, if that palm can bear the world’s weight, then it can also help to carry on the movement for change, for human unity…humanity. Succumbing to pressures, both unseen and unknown, are a contradiction of life, because we defy those pressures and limits everyday just with our being.
Knowledge- know the ledge, if you don’t know that you are standing by a ledge then you will fall
Wisdom- wise dominion, knowing why it is that you are where you are, know your purpose and impact
And Understanding- to stand under, to view what lays in front of you, you must be able to look beyond it so you know where it came from, you must be able to stand under and see the roots, in order to be able to properly stand over and appreciate the things you see, the surface tells us nothing more than what it appears to us as
These are ancient concepts of wisdom that contemplate existence, which are at the root of every society philosophy organization and religion. Those people that hold those titles which inspires us to aspire to be, have realized their power, instead of seeking to be like them, why not inform ourselves by discovering our Power. Aspire to be those titles, not the people that wield them, because our Power is our own, no one else’s, so let’s make sure that we represent ourselves everyday by who we truly are in the newly acquired Knowledge of what we are, have, and can become, while not allowing those in Power to misrepresent who we are, what we need and are capable of. We are everything but speechless, voiceless, and Powerless. Just open your hand, and if you Believe, then you will see, and with that new Perception, you’ll Understand. Now you’ve become an Active Visionary, putting what you see into action, manifesting your beliefs while in service to the human condition, otherwise known as an Activist. We can all take action and make impacts in our own way. Even from a prison cell
“Some say you have to see to believe, but I say you need to believe it to see, because what is in a blind man’s hands is whatever he believes it to be”-WayOfLife/YoungR.U.S.S.

Filed Under: Spirit

Top 10 Reasons Men in Prison May be Bigger Catch than your average “Swipe Right”

April 15, 2019 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

FITNESS- I mean in prison we take care of ourselves for the most part, clean, organized, we’re preserved, with all those keto and kale lifestyles, we have the kilometer lifestyle, weights have their way of sculpting and bulging the body in more desirable ways. Testosterone and Vitality will be at the max, after the first round of course, if you picking up what I’m putting down!

TRANSPARENCY- we live with our worst all out there, we have the elephants in the room being rode by our skeletons out of a wide open closet, no surprises, no sending our representative selves, no false advertisement, what u see before u get is more than you’ll ever know before an average first date
emotional availability-people are finding and reinventing themselves, trying to heal from their own scars by facing them daily, that vulnerability is found and explored on another level when a woman is involved because emotions aren’t a party topic on the yard, so you get the real tears from a Man, Wooo!

DEPTH-in prison that shallow shit is less existent, who are we to be so choosy and picky, plus we get a chance to know someone’s depth before appearance and sexual performance which is the true essence of love and relationships. Let’s be real, most people are surface dwellers, but us in prison learn from experience that it’s what’s beneath that counts, so bring your flaws, scars, and all!

SECURITY-if you at a grocery store and a dude comes up to you like, “what up ma” all you gotta say is my boyfriend just got home from doing ten plus years in prison, then he says, “goodbye ma” nuff said/ I mean I used to be that guy that stayed away from all dudes out of prison and their women and I don’t scare easy, I’m just not stupid. Men from prison are protective of what’s theirs, so being a prized possession is a plus, because no one steals from us inside or else, so damn sure not outside!

FORGIVENESS/UNDERSTANDING-we understand people have a past and have shame and guilt, we live in it daily, so you are able to have the release and heal with a kindred spirit that truly gets it, the weight of judgement isn’t a light load, we know how to forgive because we live to be forgiven, umm vulnerability is the new pheromones!

GPS-you always know where he is, and fear no competition, women aren’t plentiful here so no weekend sexcapades or surprise pregnancies. Loyalty is almost a given, all you have to do is pick up the phone, visit, or write back!

LISTENER-the world is so distracting right now, you get someone that has the luxury of being able to stop and be attentive and learn who you really are and help you figure even more of yourself out, you have men that not only listen, but actually wants to listen! Priceless! That shit is groundbreaking!

TRAINABLE-if all men are dogs, then at least we’re in a kennel and trainable before you take us home. I mean if the world can have all these lost, hurt dog commercials that make you wanna spend your money and take them home, then do a slow motion biopic on me and my environment, and I can make you just as sad and be all the more respectful, grateful and loyal to you too if you choose me and take me home! I don’t mind being trained, who I was at first obviously didn’t work out, cheers to new things!

DRIVE-we have creativity, we’ve fantasized and dreamed and found passion and sparked ideas in order to have a chance at a better life, in order to start over, all that takes time and planning, will, dedication, perseverance, reserve, strength, patience, spirit, faith, belief…we can help rejuvenate your energy, drive is infectious, lost and forgotten dreams become realized and seeked once again in the name of love, Prison Love!

ROMANCE-We have all the time to think of everything you say, the signs you give, trust me we see all the signs and remember more dates and moments than usual so we can create a display of love specifically catered to you. It’s the small things that we master and that count, so we’re creative with how we express our love and the things we say, whether in drawings and hand made cards, romantic, sensual, and deep letters, singing on the phone, and Prison Poetry(ehh mhm! bias admitted) is second to none! So imagine the effort that will be put in making you feel special when we’re home! You know how a man acts when he messed up and wants forgiveness knowing he’s in the dog house? Well that’s our normal! Can’t beat that! If someone expresses love better than a prisoner, then what the hell are you doing reading this?! You messing up!


Ha! No wonder the prison penpal and prison business is boomin! The Good in the Bad, ProseofaCon
Case made! Mic drop! So are we a catch or what?! Instagram Prison Version of “The Bachelor” coming soon!
Disclaimer: does NOT apply to ALL, but then again, what does?  

Filed Under: Inside, Love

Head in the Clouds

April 15, 2019 by Russell Wardlow Leave a Comment

Head In The Clouds:
Rare peace…I’m chilling on the yard at a table, listening to music, just zoned out right now…I’m free or at least escaped for the moment…the sky is full of thick pillowy white and powdery blue clouds, there’s literally no break in the clouds but the puffs of definition…and it’s as if the sky is moving in unison, as if being called somewhere, like birds migrating, or mass yard movement on the way to chow…it seems so free yet almost mindless or unconscious, maybe even purposeful, but no doubt tranquil…at least in my mind. The sky is so dense right now, I wonder how much a cloud weighs? It looks both heavy and light, ambivalent…ambiguous…duplicitous…no, paradoxical! There’s the word I love. Balancing two sides, whether opposing complimentary or contradictory, is just a thing I love doing-Libra Natured. I see myself going into the sky, clawing and peeling back space for my head to poke through, like a groundhog digging a hole. Now my body is suspended in air, my head has disappeared, for I can’t look back down on the ground but now I’m in a whole other world, has that happened to you before? Your mind being somewhere so completely different than where your body is? I feel extremely light…close your eyes, what do you think I can see?…What do you imagine you would see if you were me right now? Somehow I can breathe, I wonder how God can see everywhere, yet I am finally above it all and only exposed to one world, one side? Reminds me of people’s attitudes, acting as if they are above things, high and mighty, yet barely know the half of what they feel so strongly about. Ignorance is a path of its own I guess. Speaking of the G O D, I hope He doesn’t peek a boo me behind these pillowy curtains, that wouldn’t be funny at all. A joke from the creator would have to be scary right? Just the presence…and then the pressure of laughing and playing along, or maybe he’d be the funniest ever given that he created that ability and knows us all well enough to know how to get a giggle, no way he’s like Kevin Hart! Hmm, I’m probably not supposed to be here anyway, seeing what I have somehow sneaked upon…this seems like a highway where Angels traffic across gracefully with no use for their wings, on the way to somewhere purposeful, I’m sure they aren’t capable of wasting time. Time… I doubt it exists in this world. So much destiny being orchestrated above our tiny human bodies and minds that worry of material things too heavy and shallow to cohabit any stay in this world. Everyone here is a Giant, and Stars look like diamond earrings! Eh, some more cubic zirconia than others if you ask me, but these Angels look so much like people, yet so foreign…I wonder if I might see my Dad up here? A few days ago, I just saw a picture of him for the first time ever and I’m 30, now all I think of and see, is his image in my head. I have so many questions, it may make sense to look for him up here right? But I don’t speak Angel…if I could have an interpreter I’d probably call my bestfriend and Guardian-Angel, Katie. She’d at least know we’re looking for a handsome man with sunglasses just like me, ironic, the first and only pic I’ve seen of my Dad, he’s wearing sunglasses just like me, so I know he has customs in this world! I’m rarely seen without mine, and rarely noticed without them…isn’t it crazy how often we look beyond something in front of our face, because we expect it to look and be a certain way? I do that a lot with women, love, opportunities, foreign countries and cultures, certain foods, and life period. All earthly things I suppose, so I guess while I’m up here, I should at least try to fit in and adjust my thought process to not being so surface and physical oriented if I want to find anything, because I haven’t noticed one identifiable color. Somehow I feel like no time has passed and no time has been wasted, it just seems as is, and just right…everything seems like such a rush below me, like there’s never enough time, I can’t see it, but I can feel and remember it, my body feels unsettled compared to my floating head. Do we lose time to sleep, or do we sleep and lose time? Oddly I feel younger, or ageless. Hmm, how do I explain the lack of physical ness with physical descriptions? Paradox again! This is blissful confusion, it’s as if there is so much and yet only one thing going on up here, but it feels like the color of Love. Does that make sense? I haven’t felt anything remotely parallel to sadness, anxiety, anger, fear, or loss. Everything is harmonic, matter of fact everything sounds like a melody, as if movement is cadenced to some kind of aural music. Phantasmagoria…that word just popped in my mind, I don’t know the definition but it makes sense somehow, or Chimera! I wonder how would the world change if they were able to view this world? Wait! I don’t think that’d be possible, everyone feels they’ll miss something if they close their eyes, fear…but I just noticed that I’ve seen all of this with my eyes closed. I’m trying to open them but I can’t! Yet I feel that if I’m able to open my eyes that it’ll all disappear and I’ll see nothing? Just like life I suppose, our eyes are wide shut, we see but are blind to what we’ve been shown. Who would’ve thought that it’d take prison for me to be able to finally see beyond myself and this world. This feels a lot like, wait is that MY Da….”Mr. Wardlow, its time to go back to your unit, they called the yard closed for count”…
head pulled out of the clouds
reality pulled my leg
back to where people see me but don’t see me
I feel weighted
and sadness anxiety loss and frustration all over again…
the escape is over
back to prison
or life…
whatever you call it
where did the time go?
somehow time flies when there’s none left…
or none at all
Rare Peace isn’t it?…
to live timeless?
Before locking down, I wonder…
Could a prisoner do that? Live timeless?…
Could you?
click.

Filed Under: Inside, Spirit

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Prose of a Con

Prose of a Con is a collection of Russell Wardlow’s prose and poetry written entirely behind bars. Through writings on family, spirituality, freedom, love, justice, redemption, and vulnerability, Russell seeks to show the humanity and hope of individuals like himself who are incarcerated.

Read More

  • Human Terrorists and Humanitarians May 5, 2022
  • Obtuse May 5, 2022
  • Lost Senseless, in this World May 5, 2022
  • Misguided Astronautical Musings May 5, 2022
  • Real Views May 5, 2022

Themes

  • Culture
  • Inside
  • Love
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