They say you can’t make this shit up. But maybe you can. Make it up as you go along. Make the most of it. Make an ass out of you and me. Is it Infinitely variable? Or just the same old shit? What day is it? Walk the last mile in my shoes. Blown out Sambas. Tracing the same habitrails repeatedly. Final fifty fucking feeting. Like clockwork like. Muscle memory. Glycogen stores sold out. More coffee. Dry mouth, nausea, vertigo, hallucinatory indifference and or post nasal drip. Psychosomatically suggested to me. Ask me about my learned helplessness. Until further notice. Switching to beer. Transitioning seamlessly. We now join the daily routine already in progress. That’s not deja vu, it’s the same shit different day. Are you my Bucky?
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