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I lay there on the futon, the bits of salt and pretzel
stuck in the skin on my back while the box fan rattles and blows,
and I think to myself:

I’ll bet death is just LIKE this.

I drank a triple espresso and four cups of coffee today.
My heart is beating out of my fucking chest.
©2006-2009 ~Iphian
:iconiphian:

Author's Comments

Self-explanatory, I think.

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!

--
"Stand firm in your refusal to remain conscious during algebra :wow:. In real life, I assure you, there is no such thing as algebra.# :boogie: " ~Fran Lebowi
:jawdrop:
:iconiphian:
thanks?

--
Dear god I need cotton swabs.

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July 23, 2006
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