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Mateuš Conrad Jul 2018
/                  whiskey after just having eaten
an english - fish 'n' chips?
              i've ensured to lign up
the additives to allow me to miss
                            sunrise...
     amitriptyline + naproxen...
i have no chemo-stigmatism
   of using commercial drugs...
i studied chemistry
   and: if "studying" martial arts
to overcome the ills of the mind
by encompassing
a body, with a brain...
    i would have done so...
if i wasn't kicked in the *****
by an inexperienced student
of an actual martial law teacher...
you can't expect to rekindle
learning eastern arts of combat,
after some 20+ year old *******
kicks a 14 year old in the *****...
and all this pharma-phobia?
talking to a chemistry graduate?
   can't really convince me...
i've found my perfect balance
to sleep like a cat...
up to 14+ hours...
amitriptyline + naproxen + alcohol...
and the fun part of this combo is:
i don't actually dream:
  not on a regular basis at least...
and i'm fine with that...
  but all this
     primates evolved from
ingesting psychedelic fungus
to translate a chimp using a stone
into crafting a stone age hammer?!
  sorry...
           i haven't acquired
putting the joseph curtain of
reiterating colours on my eyes...
i wish i had:
    but where no rainbow
falls into the eyes:
   there's no leprechaun on
the other end of the discussion...
just prior:
   soviet opera,
   nameless...
     as opposed to
        basevi, lualdi...
    god forbid a mention
   of giuseppe (verdi)...
      or giacomo's la bohème:
             oh sweat tears at
                        the mikhailovsky!
and god i would have stayed
with her...
   if the current year was not
a 1950s hollywood hollywood:
slap in the face - and
she doesn't receive a punch
                      in the face herself...
once sided violence
of that sort,
  can hardly be compensated
in the ***** region
of the body...
                        as: 'ard man
taking a beating...
                   i'm guessing some men
would have replied
to the slap in the face,
rather than stand ground
like a statue...
  and bore, a birth to a heart
of stone...
   rather than entertained
all the progrnographic theatre
that so many people will not
replicate...
              sometimes...
    just the nibbling reitelation...
a salt on the wounds:
  with the wounds - being memory.

— The End —