This body, my bones are breaking
I can feel my mind slipping out water under a door
I work, eat, sleep, work. This is grueling and I suffer for its own sake. But I am not suffering, only tired all the way into my bones and behind my eyes.
My lattes are looking fancy. I am getting more control of the micro-foam and a refined palate for cherry, chocolate, licorice, and spice. I do love pulling coffee.
My skin is itchy, not enough water. Or, it might be that I haven't shaved my legs in an eon and they a monsterous mess of hair, skin, bruises, and strength.
It is interesting to me that when I have all the time in the world, I am anxious about finding work; when I work, I am not anxious but rather sleepy and itchy.
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