im breaking a glass v v sharp--
polka jazz is a thing and im busy drinking whiskey to it. the air is sour with cleaning smell, it is the bitters, the extra dry junipers, the way a violin screams quiet.
oh oh wait i know, you said you know why im wanting to kill myself every day haha
dead birds in my stomach happy for the free grand slam, ,,, , ,, , ,, ,, ,,
help im sweating chardonnay
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