|<<||it's a strange title for a book, isn't it? alison's book of garbage or whatever the hell i called it? it all started with the slip of paper i put on page four, which i found a few weeks ago but didn't know what to do with. when i thought about this book i figured i would just paste it in here, and then i pasted in page six and then the book was about garbage. sometimes i think a lot about garbage, about how i can't even fathom how much of it there really is, and not just paper and food and hygiene products, but stuff. old underwear and socks and rugs and furniture and old cds and things that used to mean something to someone before they tossed it out. well, maybe not the underwear. here's a little bit of my garbage, then, stuff that meant something for awhile, however small.
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