I lie awake at night reliving my owner’s manual to
misery and her accompanying atlas of despair; my
destiny is an ending and narrowing cul-de-sac of
nothingness, to fathom anything more from my birth,
whence all trouble came, is passing fiction as truth and lies
as certitude, death is unforgiving and death always wins, debtors take
heed in her odds, she never pays off on any wagers, you can’t pay off
any corpus delicti or stiff, man is born unto death, yet, death is patient
as gnawing worms, the nights are reminiscent and loud with memories of
youthful sprees and contemporaries, my passion is listening to old Classical,
Blues, Jazz, and Latin albums of my collection, and understanding the genius
in everything bound to our ears, prisoners to this earth and freedom are death, are
Are you in or are you out?
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