Or... How I Learned To Stop Worrying & Needlessly Punish Myself With Absinthe.
Fuck the fetishism of Hemingway. There truly is no dignity in the consumption of that puke. The helpless fool lies, wistfully fingering the atrophied remnants of the soul... And yet, for all such parallax Wisdom, I know that the bank holiday weekend will eventually become nothing but a degenerate regret.
In the meantime, I must start a new job and find a new apartment in Galway. Could this be any more fun:
Fuck the fetishism of Hemingway. There truly is no dignity in the consumption of that puke. The helpless fool lies, wistfully fingering the atrophied remnants of the soul... And yet, for all such parallax Wisdom, I know that the bank holiday weekend will eventually become nothing but a degenerate regret.
In the meantime, I must start a new job and find a new apartment in Galway. Could this be any more fun:
5 comments:
meh
Anonymous: My thoughts exactly.
re: my thoughts exactly
meh
Anonymous: Shush.
john cav: meh
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