Some evenings I look at these dirty things and raise and lower (up and down) arbitrary weights in an equally systematic and pointless fashion and listen to Kendrick and Lamar is no poet but he has a way and sometimes that is enough and sometimes he makes my skin crawl, I told you. and I feel a little sick of myself and there is a little acid in my belly from the running but really, that feels good because I can’t help wondering who she is kissing and if that is a bad thing, well, yes and f**k, doesn’t he swear a lot? (Gemini)



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