if i were to write a post-apocalypse movie, i think i'd have it set in a place with a name like ceramic knives: manzanillo, mexico.

and her sand would be thick like volcanic ash.

the debris of society washes up on her onyx shores. ambergris and audiocassettes, seaweed and stereo. but it mysteriously buries itself before it can ever be found.

consumed by nature.

there is solitude. and this is the soundtrack.

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