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A Passive Disaster

A day when southern Manitoba could not be more sublime

"God's good blessings to you my friend" it's a freshness unparalleled

With budding leaves, a gentle breeze, rays of sun bleaching my soft hair

The first insects of the season, zipping, zipping --(I've recently been sent here to tell you that your story is not a good story at all

The all-natural fuckeasy, well, I'd rather be a whore, than a slave)-- about in the usual exuberance that they might convey if they had human emotions

Bird calls ring through the air, a symphony of ambiance I sit, lounging in patio furniture

Plaid shorts, a short tee, absorbing all that is before me

This is an illusion of despair

This is an illusion of despair

This is an illusion of despair

This is an illusion of despair, despair, despair

Oh shitThese illusions pay no mind to the shaking in my nerves

These illusions pay no mind to the shake, to the shaking

These illusions pay no mind to the shaking in my nerves

These illusions pay no mind to the shake, to the shake, to the shaking

This is an illusion of despair

This is an illusion of despair

This is an illusion of despair

This is an illusion of despair, despair

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