in front of me, and then it
is all just a blur... my ears hear
within a radius of three hundred
and sixty degrees, and then
sound exponentially decreases...
my smell has been damaged from
tobacco and then it
smells a rose a few feet away...
my taste senese iron from the blood
of a cut lip, and then it
tastes no different at all... my feelings
have been hurt numerous times
during my lifetime, and then
there is no feelings at all... the odd
characteristic of senses is that they
are constanting changing to
accommodate expectations... and then
the expectations die surreptitiously
and the mind misunderstands the cues,
leaving us in a state of insomnia and
then a coma of dead thoughts emerge
and we drown our woes in a pitcher of
beer, alcoholics annonymous donated.
10 October 2022
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