A throat parched by long, dry evenings. Sleep shimmying through the sinuses, and eclipsing the sunlight. A conveyer belts of cheap confections paraded through the afterlife. Ten thousand meaningless days, magnified by dying stars. Countless faces, all with the same voice of defeated pointlessness. Hopeless defeatism. Pointlessly unhopeful. Whatever.
1:26 p.m. - 2022-05-27
Recent entries:
Yellow and Gold and Honey - 2022-06-02
Yellow and Gold and Honey - 2022-06-02
Bone Broth - 2022-06-02
Unordered Expectations - 2022-05-27
Milk and Oatmeal - 2022-05-27
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