Aye, keep your tongue in control. Lick a google doc to its salival saturation point but know when enough is enough. Can you not feel the nervous energy? Days are freaking titanic, the nights submerged, and the midnights LUTZY as can be. In reality you schlup up Woodstock hill on a whim, knowing the bar setting plays a only a backseat role in what’s really on your mind. Yer doin yer best to break the cycles. But some weeks are one of those dorm washing machines that kidnaps your clothes when you press the wrong buttons, and no amount of pounding the door will break that cycle until it’s run its course.
So you incubate yourself and resign to waiting forty-two minutes before you can take inventory of the shrinkages and unravelings and color changes and however else the machine decides to punish you. Fight it, my dude. Or at least make do. I would venture that forty-two minutes at the Lutz are all I need to get an impression. It’s never been about the drinks anyhow. Who said I had to get drunk when just being here (or any damn where, maybe tucked behind gov docs) could get me drunk on ideas? But I digress. Let’s tumble dry on low. Maybe we would all rather read autofill text than half-baked metaphor:
Do you know what you want to play a game that you meet me halfway here in my life I was going to ask if you were planning a long time coming weekend and we’re tryna make it a relationship with the trust me and then push my ear plugs into your drastic measures?
Yes please don’t be offended I think it looks better with scaffolds and music broadcast in the same state of the most genuine people at reed questions accepted by my sleuthing and I’m not against certain unusual people who will spend some great unpacking bud to talk about journalism. If you choose between us then he harbors a lot of anger at the cosmopolitan to watch avatar the way they were suspicious was just giving you a pancake.
Well said, Android. Let’s head home before we hit send on such thoughts.