i was surprisingly alert for a monday. on the subway this morning, i remember feeling this huge need to get an octopus and a shark tattooed on my left arm, because i was afraid of people dying, and i figured i should just get things to commemorate them while i'm alive, you know? i cannot remember what the hell triggered this train of thought,
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i can totally relate, even though nobody ever said i was good with my hands when i was on le job.
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