philosophers and philanderersphilosophers fancy themselvesphilanderersin a world where menare mere mean trinketsand a body does indeedread a book by its coverwe have many burdens butnone so bountiful as motherfuckerearthher trees do not weepor reapthe benefitsof their own loose hidesto be tightened with a knifeso we'll celebratewhat little we have leftand somedaywe shall drink, just to seeif our necksleak
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