Three years ago there was at the very least a hope, an inspired confidence that at the very least enabled the ability to hope, even if so recklessly. Now we have an uninspired gig offering a paltry wake. It's a shame...it's a boomerang feather. This has happened before, in the desert with the shades, in the jungle, in the back garage! i wonder if you'll think of me, holding you tight in the hall, at the back end of an awful gathering - prodding you on.
When I see I thought it, I thought it, I dreamed, I listened and we kept talkin' and on...and on...and on to the dreams to the reckless dreams of their ancestors between worlds, every family had been known for every virtue, for every vice. I frowned. I felt fine, but I was not smiling. Hey, I lost my place. What's it like? Probably when people keep it clean and don't bring up it's verb half-sibling. It's a loft isn't it.
"Yeah, Long Island City, it's dope man."
"Dude, I hear it's really inex...inex...chchchchc..."
I am anxious. I'm rattled now, Rhesus. Cuh cah. Juhjeejee oh ahead. Carbon. Sinister. Fula, prepare for the end of days. So I said, "Haha, the real end of days?"
"Dude, this is retarded."
And it was, it was inane. Especially since one of the closest members of the inner circle had fallen like this. I ripped the foil off the food. Oh god.
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