Writings

Repeating

It’s a stupid genre of repeating.

I look at the phone.

I almost threw up in my sleep.

Almost farted.

All I hear in my ears is classical.

That’s peace.

Classical in my ears.

Around me.

Anything else isn’t leave.

Nowhere nearby.

Disruptive technologies.

The devil uses.

To bring himself down lower.

Poetic

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