Poetry by Max Toast and various other writers writings within and around the sphere of consideration surrounding the Toast guy.

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The combined effort of everything audible to arrange sounds in such an entirely groovy way, that all sadness is forgotten, all memories are pleasant and all love is perfect.

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When paints turn into pixels and vice versa. Photography becomes the magazine clippings of a dope collage, When a picture is worth a thousand words we live infinite novels.

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Do Stuff Make Things

This is just some random text where i guess I’ll write something.

This is also random, but it is in a different place.

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