2025-02-18
Money exists. Well, as a way to exchange. People carved things on rocks and call that money from whatever B.C you like, evolved into something much bigger: NUMBERS!!! Stupid old caveman can't count, and now it's your turn post-caveman to do fucking Math. Shit exists for a reason and it's so unjustified, I am devastated to learn anything else, other than rot in bed and think with "deep" existentialism.
No. I'm just sleeping.
Imagine it's just a regular day in school. You woke up, earlier than a cock, to either process and or finish your homework with not-so-great-attentions. On your way to the bus, or whatever foot you walked out of the house with the weirdest rhythm on-foot ever, hearing cunts disturbing your eardrums- FOR FUCK'S SAKE SHUT THE FUCK UP.
I exclaim. Well, in my mind.
I think how I would do stuff that's amazing to my thoughts but neither people, and get in class. Kid's are drooling and so am I, as I fell down to the artificial wooden, grainy texture of the unstable... table, it feels like angels got sent down to let me use their boobs as comfy pillows. I imagine the sails man putting down his nets to the swindling ocean, watching me poor my soul out and floating 60 kilometers away, letting in his so called tea party. The tea was great, as I might say quali-tea, but I'd prefer the peach one.
It had that taste. I love it.
Japanese literature has never this illiterate. A quality book, filled with romcoms, daily nude offerings, organs displaced. It brings me back to money. Why is it all money and not sunshines?