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To days of inspiration playing hookey making something out of nothing the need to express to communicate to going against the grain going insane going mad. To loving tension, no pension to more than one dimension to starving for attention hating convention hating pretention. Not to mention of course hating dear old mom and dad. To fruits, to no absolute to absolute, to choice to the village voice to any passing fad. To being an us for once instead of a them. La vie boheme.
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