Happy. I was happy. Two days ago. Or three. I slept for 20 hours.
Our fridge started leaking gases. Our pistol Died, We masking taped it.
Its one giant rut. Noone can escape. Noone likes it here. Except the crazy.
Crazy, for feeling so lonely. My cold is a sentiant life form.
It has a symbiotic relationship with my throat. Like a marriage.
A
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