new guitar strings

Whisky in the cider, firewater in the falls, cascading down along the railing, a thread of ideas discordant, I am sitting here, full of cider, thinking whisky, ate a couscous dish with tempeh and yellow peppers, looked at the cover of the shakespeare book I am supposed to read, and the shiny new strings on the guitar provide the greatest distraction out of everything, every possible productive act is undermined by a caustic loneliness, a mapmaking to and from everywhere, and learning the songs of heart and hope and the lyrics met with a phrenetic praise, a cool hearted and clarified mess of learning covers in order to win the hearts of women, who said it, there would be science without people restricting themselves from fun for the sake of artistic growth. enough for now I should read but will let myself molest guitar strings a bit longer instead. Should just watch a movie and play guitar and sleep and be depressed.

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