Isolation on the Tongue #2 Sour
#2 Sour
… Caffeine is my matador. I let it keep me sane enough to send in my assignment; sane enough to suck up this dissolving education through a straw and digest it into first rate shit. I bullshit; then line my intestine with Aspartame and another packet of Oreos. Nothing fits. My legs ache to run, my shoulder blades cave as I stretch. If I squeeze tight my eyes, I could almost believe I had grown wings. But no: the neighbours Soundsystem arrived yesterday. In some sick joke, Hermes delivered.
… Caffeine is my matador. I let it keep me sane enough to send in my assignment; sane enough to suck up this dissolving education through a straw and digest it into first rate shit. I bullshit; then line my intestine with Aspartame and another packet of Oreos. Nothing fits. My legs ache to run, my shoulder blades cave as I stretch. If I squeeze tight my eyes, I could almost believe I had grown wings. But no: the neighbours Soundsystem arrived yesterday. In some sick joke, Hermes delivered.
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