I hand-wound my watch in the direction of widdershins. I got home the yesterday before my other half. I was joined by the company of a familiar old man younger than myself. We ate at an empty noodle bar and ranted quietly about politics and bad acting. We retired to a downstairs morgue. Too loud music and wall-to-wall nostalgia were the ingredients for a vibrating headache. Every zombie here was an embarrassment of non-proficiency. My eyes slid over every wasted pretender with unsmiling eyes. Depressing dilution of my dreams. I fed quarters to the ravenous until I was full and bloated with accomplishment. I came home without saying goodbye and slept for half a year.
11:53 p.m. - 2015-10-12
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