international insanity

the building is nice, immaculate, yet there are petrified dog turds everywhere, blending into the beige carpet. her eyes are electric blue but crackle with a madness i hate that i recognize from the mirror. they answer my work related questions with tales of drug stings down the street and men coming to use the restroom carrying guns. i feel my anxiety exploding, my crazy repulsed by the crazy in the air around me. a petrified forest of lower case ts and stony dog shit litter the foyer to heaven and i am sure, more than ever that heaven is no place for one such as i.


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