

StatisticsI’ve made myself sick with statistics a numerical fever.Statistics
bar-graphs for breakfast pie-charts for dinner percentages for lunch.
Calculations subside within my messy brain I wake up in the middle of the night throwing up numbers and sweating out stinky qualitative data.
I search for tiny miracles all around it’s the only thing that keeps my hope pulsing. Even though, these miricles are simply low percentages of likelyhood of occurance for a moment eyes trick my mind and occasionally I feel something shift under my rib-cage.
in poor li


Late Night CalendarEvery night, well most nights 4 out of 7 a mongoose, a skunk and a gangster wombat break into my dreams.Late Night Calendar
They pull off my socks and attach scientific meters to my toes plug cables up my ass and in my ears test my temperature and blood sugar levels.
Once everything is satisfactory and in place I’m handcuffed to the bed-frame While the wombat takes his leather biker jacket off my head the skunk pisses on my face to wake me up.
I lay static and watch their power point presentations of every regret I store inside my brain. flowcharts and
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