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I always wanted to write for magazines. Real print. More than tangible - rip-able. Share my quest for forward-thinking beat driven movements beyond my three friend music circle. Uncloak ether-region nuggets of traveling sound through stationary word. Post my Amoeba lists for fellow seekers of this nebulous misnomer of a genre and help you connect the dots in a new and unforeseen way. The magazines I read are slowly corroding; the patina of this independent arena wears thin; websites just aren't hitting the nail on the head. Meanwhile, I'm sucking my pacifier, coated in ad-funded editor assignments, waiting for a pitch I actually feel to catch. Enough waiting, time to cast out my line and fish out the dirtiest of gems from murky depths.
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