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2024-01-21

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dtb 2024-01-21 10:02:20 -07:00
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/blah/2024-01-21.html
: hungover diaries
0734 wake up go back to sleep
0800 alarm. ding. text girlfriend. sleep.
0805 alarm. ding
0810 alarm. i'm up i read articles about the spanish (i think) football
president or whatever forcibly kissing a player and getting booted from
football itself (they can do that?). it was hyperlinked from a
web3isgoinggreat site or whatever. neato.
0830 regretting things i messaged people last night but also some of what i
messaged was really sweet. hemingway was right
0840 kettle on stove water in pot heat in burner
0845 pouring green tea. before this also i unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher
because we forgot to do it last night (can you guess why)
0850 timer's up, add milk (oat), consider adding vodka, no trin that's why that
fucker from maine still owes you $80
0900 check bus time tables, sit down, play some angry birds on the 3ds. why was
angry birds on the 3ds? we were watching jacksfilms and one of the skits
had angry birds in it
0910 start writing
I am not extremely hungover because I drank a shit ton of water last night,
probably 2-3 liters. I also never really blacked out or did things that were
against my inhibitions. But I also didn't drink a whole lot anyway.
While drinking last night I was overcome with waves of joy so intense I
collapsed and couldn't help myself laughing and rolling on the ground, feeling
the vinyl floor underneath my back.
I've finished my tea and it was really good so I'm making another one. I put
four tea bags in my pocket so I could make green tea at work too.
really the lilies on the ocean floor
would drown in the salt of the churning sea shore
the tide would come swallow the petals in foam
and draw lily petals away from their loam
if i had a mill'on and ni-ne-ty two
dollars i'd hide them in calcified tombs
wooden and brass chests buried on the beach
so i could suffocate my slow-rottin peach
and all of the lillies in under the sea
and all of the flowers drowning in the deep
and all of the orchids awash in the waves
and all of the fruits of the labors of slaves
and all of the gold buried in the ocean
and all of the riches hoarded from their friends
and all of the rockets that reach for the stars
and terraformed rocks glowing red from afar
the rich and the few terrorize many who
would rather send riches so far from the view
of innocent bunches collected for quite
an innocent task, helping others get by
for where there's no gold there's no greed any all
for where there's no wine there's no fight any all
for where there's no load there's no weight any all
for where there's no pain there's no death any all
really the beauty that lounges in calm
dissappears when there is conflict in the song
really the beauty that i've tried to save
rots in its darkness until it's too late
if i had a million and ninety two
dollars i'd find and kill those bastards who
have more money than i and keep it on lock
then i'd burn it and then i'd bury myself
in oil and then i'd fly myself away
to a hot red rock in the middle of space
just to ensure that the ashes themselves
are kept from those who would remake my lived hell
/blah/2024-01-20.html
: why mm(1)