Waves of nostalgia washing up on shore as if I’ve done all this before ahead of the curve the next big thing yet so twenty-six years ago recycling a trend cycle continuously toeing the line between broken in and worn out
Waves of nausea sneaking up on me clouds of perfume overtaking the lobby close enough to catch a whiff breathing recycled office building air conditioned to stand in line and not ask difficult questions go with the flow they want me to go with what may or may not contain truth
Waves of inertia surrounding me coming for to carry me home keeping it on track holding it in a rut complacent stasis status quo ankling awkward pedal strokes pushing squares uphill out of the saddle out of the frying pan and into desire
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