Fuck me, hold tight, I am totally spaced out.
I am dead.
Alive?
Dead.
Alive?
Dead.
Alive?
Dead?
Alive.
Gosh, I need to sleep. Badly. I love curries. And chicken breasts. And fingernails. And paper. And saliva. And sexual innuendos. And pears. And rice. And soy sauce. And milk. And cheese. And shiny keyboards. And female geeks. And local markets. And Han Solo. And potatoes. And drums. And bacon. And huge hipbones. And-
Wait, what? What? What? What?
Huh? What? What?
Exit. Enter. Scream. Exit. Enter. Breathes. Dies. Exit.
To. To. To. To.
Tu. Tu. Tu. Tu.
Da. Da. Da. Da.
Ba. Ba. Ba. Ba.
Gu. Gu. Ga. Ga.
De. De. De. De.
Wash. Clean. Soft. Hard. Piece. White. Body. Black. Dead.
Huh?
Huh?
Huh?
Huh?
Ba. Ba. Ba. Ba. De. De. De. De.
De. De. Dee. Deee. Deeee. Deeeee. Deeeeee. Deeeeeee. Deeeeeeee. Deeeeeeeee.
Sometimes, I wish I was still alive.
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