Childhood grievences resurfaced.
Little languages failed themselves. Finger strokes to follow the words felt nothing.
What evidence will be left? Card stuffed in an ATM will lead to Draculizing spiritless casions. DOn’t leave me like this. I’m sick but mending well. Woke with a vengeful boner and continuous irritants.
Hateful, lonely comments about a non-existant rich boyfriend. How can some people talk so much? Words and touchinesses of no coherent, porous flesh.
I feel stable today after a week of the opposite. I may be closer to a heart attack than I thought. I shit well, though. In a nearby room someone is presently shitting. I hate the way this dude shits. He does it with a grimace, and a yawn. All day he carries a smirk on his face of having shit like a conqueror. Only I am the shit conqueror.
All anyone ever talks about is food. When they articulate thoughts about physics and nucleatides they are really talking about sticky rice and chitlins.
