Three pages, triploblastic an insult to my own intelligence. "Marginal fail", Fuck it, i can't even screw up right! The E grins. Myself in my own hands which close as anger incarnate. Releasing the crumpled rotten fruit to drop kick into the corner, but still clawing the issue. Nails clinging to my plams. Crucify myself on an uright of downright stupidity and a crossbeam of shame. And I am a scarecrow, in a fallow field making light conversaton with birds.
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