punk

Day 32: Is this the tale of Johnny Rotten?

I am unsurprisingly sitting isolated tonight with only these few remaining beers and a couple of sad songs clinging to their disordered alignment within the confines of another hastily collated pandemic-inspired playlist echoing through an empty house for company.  Another night and another drink to help round out the listless loneliness and to maybe spark free the words that have been recently cluttering up my mind. Another night and another soulful song teasing out the emotions clogging up my soul.  Another night and another window left open to awkward self-imposed introspection implemented not for the sake of bettering my person, but because there is fuck all else left to do long after the sun sets over this weary little locked-down fly over City of Wayne. And …

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