MindKeyTwist

MindKeyTwist t1_jdk2gdu wrote

Work in 30 minutes. Slept through the alarm again. Friday. I think. Yeah. Fucking Friday. Praise Buddha. Spring break on the horizon. Maybe the delirium will lift after a few days of rest. The kids are going to be wild today. More hellacious than usual, for sure. Didn't plan a lesson. Fuck it. Wouldn't matter anyways. Rarely does it matter in the jungle. I'll probably quit at the end of this year--what the fuck? 397 Westend Blvd. The flowing block script, so ornate. The lines, perfect. The delicate balance of purple, orange and sky blue--divine--like a cosmic sunset on a distant Goldilocks planet. BUT WHAT THE FUCK! Right across my fucking forehead. A splash of cold water across my face. Wake up you fuck. I've had lucid dreams before. Walking around my apartment--then it becomes a maze with no one to make love to at the end (and there are always pictures of my cats on the walls). I don't keep pictures of cats on my walls. The water trickles down my cheeks. The harsh light of the vanity is brighter now. I'm more awake than I've ever been. This should hurt. This should fucking be throbbing, itching. It's not. It looks...well...defined. Healed, most certainly. A touch to confirm this fuckery. Smooth. Smooth...smooth...fucking smooth. Early spring break.

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