Jul 21st

Heart feels fine but the priests cry rest. How can I do that? What does that mean? To recline and stop, to flounder? No, it’s too hard, don’t make me do that! No exercise? To not burn off the quantum fat? Two state matter, thought and mass. To endlessly supine? It boggles my mind, I see it as downfall of all of mankind.
Tumbling into the nightmare of past, the herbs and the powders, legals and crack, beer and whiskey, cider and rum. You think these will get you there? You think that shit’s hard? I’d wager that heroin would even be light, krokodil’s vanilla, mystery dive bomb stealth blight’s the killer. Brain cells burning, icy sweat, closing my eyes like nuclear ket, making it worse when lying right down, resting is restless. Clutching black cutting thread, forming ever shifting structures as you cling on for dear fucking leaky life. Wake up like you’ve done a marathon, anger is past your memories long gone. Twenty inch nail, stuck right through your head, legs lifted skyward and spun like a hat, hours and hours, drowning in sweat, the fever so scorching your heart makes a choice, “Destroy the engine, the only cure that’s not void”
BOOM-BOOM *wrench*

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