Remember Esma? Yea, I never thought that I'd think of her again. Ha. That was a funny few weeks spent in Poland. It all comes back to that country. People tend to have these pasts that they stuff into their closets. I've put it all into a different country. Maybe that's why I yearn to go abroad. But I don't want to be that party person again. And I saw that as I spent my last summer there. When Karolina and I would get mad at the people there and just take days off from work and go to Bialka to ride the horses there- aka my Hebab the little gray Shagya Arab. What a beauty. This morning I woke up with the image of a severed head wrapped up and put into a plastic bag. We were holding it, looking at it, and thinking/saying how the people that did it didn't let it decay at all. It was in perfect condition. Too bad that the bag was opaque.
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