Familiar smells wafting in from the kitchen bring some comfort. Distress, that which felt less comfortable, comes from the day-gone-by, which should've been iconic for reasons of severance, but wasn't for the reasons of my indolence. It surprises me how complacent I've become about some more focal points of life, my professional discipline being one. Right now I'm that unprofessional that managers fear - lying, procrastinating, evasive, and in my own calm (and own thought space) about it.
There are not but ghosts behind this endless canopyI can imagine this one guy doing a Stroszek-inspired gig.
and they all hold small comfort for deserters such as we.
You have failed us in memories, your recollections all are lies.
You've been such a disappointment from the moment that we died.
And we will descend from the sky.
And we will bury you alive.
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