another morning and in a dirty boarding house room. lying still on the bed staring at roaches chasing flies and not knowing which team to root for
tchtchtchtchtchtchtchtchtchtchtchtch
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night comes only to find a barstool under his ass. Same crowd only different like a deck of cards the faces never really change they just rearrange
sleep come unwillingly for when it does it shares darkness. death constant companion spoons close and vyes for warmth. old lover with passionate embrace holds on and patiently waits
