i dont even know what this is i wrote it last night in like two minutes but i guess you have to look at it now. sorry. i guess you could call it a poem but that feels weird. it's not a story. it's. i don't know if this counts as prose? even? i'm not sure. whatever. actually i'm not going to apologize i am not sorry i crafted this whole funky thing out of little bits of clay and i can kick it down the line if i Want to.
the nightfly
it was a cool september night in november and i sat and you and i and i and november and what and you and november and what and i sat at a two feet by four feet by about two and a half feet metal desk with legs with many legs with uncountable number of leg and i sat down and i thought about what i would like to eat for dinner and i decided on a salad and it made me happy to have decided something and it made me happy to have decided on a salad and i walked out of the door and i sat down at a chair which was one of those office chairs with legs and it sat at the desk and it sat and the desk had legs and i sat at the desk and i opened up my computer and i looked for microsoft excel and i booted up microsoft excel and and i saw the moon through a window cold breeze a light shades of blue and i looked for my computer and the desk was metallic and it had legs and i am your family so let me into your house
interchangeably;
do you think britney spears knows what she means to so many people
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