If You Pour A Shot Of Espresso Into A Mug It’s Still Only A Shot

I woke with that sense of impending doom, that death feeling but I think I should go back to sleep, work time is soon. Four a.m. comes around and I should get the last couple of hours. Executive decision I know what to do, or I knew.

I did lay down, put in a movie to nod off but I think I watched it; there wasn’t much left. I wanted my mind to stop but it won’t, it wouldn’t, that’s not how it works still, I think I slept. Crazy dreams never mind repose, I’m up to make that espresso now. Should wipe that blood off the keyboard, off the laptop.



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