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Emptiness x Despair = Turbulance - Discipline

I made a hobby of disappointment. And a lifestyle of disappearance. Or invisibility.

Invisibility = Disappearance - Going Away

I could spend the rest of my silence working out psycho-mathematic equations, but it seems like a big waste of perfectly hard fluorscent light. Stomach pain is a fine entertainment on a Saturday evening when we are fresh from the sun's burial. We could ride the train for hours and never find a suitable exit station.

Look at what these sidewalks have done to me! I can't unclog the mirror and watch my reflection go down.

I now wear oven mitts when I open my notebook. I don't want to burn my fingers in static. I assure you that static feels as hot as it sounds.

And tonight all these places in the carpet or behind the wall are quiet places to hide.

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