The Eye of Surrealist Time, by Salvador Dali
gripping the shards of memories ignoring the bloodied emotions why do we torture ourselves with that which we cannot change these evocations vivid disturbing invisible to others but our élan spotlit driven instituting mostly patronising eleemosynary projects perfect recall subject to experiences dictated by accident of birth the authenticity of memoirs tenaciously defended but ravaged by subliminal influences a testimony to its perfidy
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