ORNAMENTAL HUMDINGER HAYSTACK BARREL
I never went places I didn't get to.
That's just the way it was : every
step out of the way took me farther
from my goal. I think. I think that
I shall kneel here a while and pray:
Our lady of the milk bottles, Our
lady of the winsome dog, Our lady
of the cattle roundup, Our lady of
the perpetual orgasm. They have so
many of these things I could never
choose. One time, I was walking
along distant Bulgarian lanes and
I kept running across crash-chapels.
At each spot where someone had died,
they'd erected prayer-stops along the
winding roads. I liked to check them
out : most of the things within were
old - it wasn't the sort of idea that
was visited often. When Mato Biszets
died here, is was so far away that his
kin could only visit, maybe, once
a year. Maintenance fairly lacking,
I'd say. Or, as they would put it :
липсата на поддръжка
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