You Figure It Out.

Here I sit. (I really am sitting)

On a pop up chair in my the rain (there just has to be rain in these moments)

Getting high and listening to Radiohead (0riginal.)

20 pounds lighter than I was 3 days ago, somehow...with all this weight I've been carrying I've seemed to have to dropped some or so pounds. (I wonder what they contained, those pounds. Maybe bits of myself. Maybe just fat.)

With a feeling of absolute nothingness (Some call it awesomeness)

 Almost like it’s been said before...the cliche of it all. (But of course if it has been said before, it is a cliche...I suppose. Who knows.)

The indie film, over exaggerated, desperately depressing playlists and the constant urge something great is gonna happen. (Key words here; exaggerated, desperate, constant, Is. Is. Is. Is. Is....It's not. )

Because that’s the ending. (The ending is the beginning of everything that has ever began. Said it here first.)

Permanently painless, it seems. (Except, what I really meant, was...the kind of pain that's so familiar you almost don't recognize that it's new and lasting)

Another day.  (It was night)


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