/* March 27, 2004 */
/* It feels like there's a flame in the back of my throat. It licks the back of my pallette with feeble heat. Like someone's lit a candle in my oesophagus.
Some days there's nothing but masks. All the way down. Lies upon lies upon lies. */
Some days there's nothing but masks. All the way down. Lies upon lies upon lies. */

