Feeling low tbqh. Need to reboot. Lack of sleep. The cosmos not aligning. Can't even get a single ball right in the lotto. The Pirates lost. Jesus Christ. What's a boy to do? Eat Wawa sub? No. IDK. Standardization: in bad need of. Stream of consciousness conquering me. Give me the Wawa bird. I want to eat a goose. Fuck Jake Arrieta. NO JK. Dumb beard, though. This is not a poem. Saying it is not a poem doesn't make a poem. It's just not. Not interested in anything. My voice is a weasel.

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