boredom
boredom
completing letters, being right, being wrong
overanalize letters, floating text, everything in
context, everyone out of it, no zone
to think, because time is inexcusable, and
all is wrong with me even the little
things, even the big things, every
thing seemed so valuable, but this
is a tip without end, without
exit, we will continue travelling
until we find home, until we find us
until we find us
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