if we`re talking about love then I have to tell you dear readers I`m not sure where I`m headed. I`ve gotten lost before. I`ve woke up stone drunk face down in the floor.
late afternoon the house is hot. I started I jumped up. everyone hates a bore. everyone hates a drunk.
this may be a lit invention professors muddled in their intent to try to rope in followers to float their malcontent. as for this reader, I`m already spent.
late afternoon, the house is hot. I started, I jumped up. everyone hates a sad professor. I hate where I wound up.
dear readers, my apologies. I`m drifting in and out of sleep. long silence presents the tragedies of love. note the age. get afraid. the surface hazy with attendant thoughts. a lazy eye metaphor on the rocks.
late afternoon, the house is hot. I started, I jumped up. everyone hates a bore. everyone hates a drunk. everyone hates a sad professor. I hate where I wound up. I hate where I wound up.
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