Numbness.
I am a gaggle of Englishman in a brothel, receiving cheap favours out of pity from whores.
I've no money and no currency in this economic climate.
I'm drinking at twelve and fucking nothing.
The circulation of thoughts in my skull has halted and now my blood cools.
Entropic heat death.
Bitter cold.
Finality.
Not even a polite 'fuck you'.
So whatever, fuck it.
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