2024-01-21
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@ -525,6 +525,86 @@ pre { /* DRY who? */
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/blah/2024-01-21.html
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: hungover diaries
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0734 wake up go back to sleep
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0800 alarm. ding. text girlfriend. sleep.
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0805 alarm. ding
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0810 alarm. i'm up i read articles about the spanish (i think) football
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president or whatever forcibly kissing a player and getting booted from
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football itself (they can do that?). it was hyperlinked from a
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web3isgoinggreat site or whatever. neato.
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0830 regretting things i messaged people last night but also some of what i
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messaged was really sweet. hemingway was right
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0840 kettle on stove water in pot heat in burner
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0845 pouring green tea. before this also i unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher
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because we forgot to do it last night (can you guess why)
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0850 timer's up, add milk (oat), consider adding vodka, no trin that's why that
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fucker from maine still owes you $80
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0900 check bus time tables, sit down, play some angry birds on the 3ds. why was
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angry birds on the 3ds? we were watching jacksfilms and one of the skits
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had angry birds in it
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0910 start writing
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I am not extremely hungover because I drank a shit ton of water last night,
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probably 2-3 liters. I also never really blacked out or did things that were
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against my inhibitions. But I also didn't drink a whole lot anyway.
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While drinking last night I was overcome with waves of joy so intense I
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collapsed and couldn't help myself laughing and rolling on the ground, feeling
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the vinyl floor underneath my back.
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I've finished my tea and it was really good so I'm making another one. I put
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four tea bags in my pocket so I could make green tea at work too.
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really the lilies on the ocean floor
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would drown in the salt of the churning sea shore
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the tide would come swallow the petals in foam
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and draw lily petals away from their loam
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if i had a mill'on and ni-ne-ty two
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dollars i'd hide them in calcified tombs
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wooden and brass chests buried on the beach
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so i could suffocate my slow-rottin peach
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and all of the lillies in under the sea
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and all of the flowers drowning in the deep
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and all of the orchids awash in the waves
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and all of the fruits of the labors of slaves
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and all of the gold buried in the ocean
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and all of the riches hoarded from their friends
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and all of the rockets that reach for the stars
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and terraformed rocks glowing red from afar
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the rich and the few terrorize many who
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would rather send riches so far from the view
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of innocent bunches collected for quite
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an innocent task, helping others get by
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for where there's no gold there's no greed any all
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for where there's no wine there's no fight any all
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for where there's no load there's no weight any all
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for where there's no pain there's no death any all
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really the beauty that lounges in calm
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dissappears when there is conflict in the song
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really the beauty that i've tried to save
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rots in its darkness until it's too late
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if i had a million and ninety two
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dollars i'd find and kill those bastards who
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have more money than i and keep it on lock
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then i'd burn it and then i'd bury myself
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in oil and then i'd fly myself away
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to a hot red rock in the middle of space
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just to ensure that the ashes themselves
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are kept from those who would remake my lived hell
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/blah/2024-01-20.html
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: why mm(1)
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