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Crack the neck, get ready for the vomit.

Heuristics, rain, dashed intentions.
Time, meaningless, used up on a colorful cube of spins and ring fingers.
Practice, the importance of practice,
now see me practice my incoherence.

Loneliness and depression
depression and loneliness

Grammar, and the Nazis,
blurred lines, thicke skin.
Nasty verses, no talent.

Alone, under the hazy blue again
Repeated peat fires,
extinguished days, awaiting death again

Always, always death
shake the head, shake of the head, shake off my head
Always death and Capital Letters
Always melancholy and 'it's okay to be sad'

Well, what if I don't wanna be sad?
What if I just wanna drop this little bomb of mine,
FUCK
F-BOMBS

Let me release, goddamit.
Fuck, FUCK
caps locked into position,
fuck people who wear hats.
Fuck me. I wear hats, sometimes.

Person with many hats. Jack, of most trades, or only a few. Master of Master Baits,
go fish and figure that one out.


Perplexing endings, take a group photo. Let the light die out, the music end. Accept it, learn from it,
but there are no teachers here. No one to guide me.
Fucking ironic, school is. They teach so much, but I learn so little.

Something something education means something else.
Pay up, pay up
Give em' your time and money
All about that ching-a-ling,
swiping cards,
NO SWIPING!

Incoherent, rambled on, this foolish manic
whose dreams frighten the living boy in him,
but the boy cannot come out, so he has no place to run,
so he stays in his hiding place: me.

Little boy, censor yourself.
You ain't funny, you ain't deep.
You ain't a 'master of the language'
You ain't no accomplished writer
You can't even talk good
You can't even type right, write, right?

Skinny arms, cold feet,
classy tunes, cozy beats.

'hope when you take that jump.......'


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