A smattering of abandoned vehicles. Ticker-tape parking lot lighting and the muddy horizon of sunset. Dim lights and soft-running water in an undecorated storefront. The smooth and claiming hands of Asian women. Hands that lack technical skill, and only understand one thing. Which is, of course, the most common denominator. An evening of badly managed expectations crushed into fine powder by coarse mercenaryism. The sun hides, and the neon sign flickers in a chuckle.
1:45 p.m. - 2022-12-01
Recent entries:
The Math of Mediocrity - 2022-12-15
Retrieved Evidence of Solipsism - 2022-12-15
Don't Forget to Remember - 2022-12-09
Rock Holds and Glass Windows - 2022-12-09
Unwellnessism - 2022-12-09
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