Drunk. All the thoughts are muffled, numbed. All the speed in them slowed to a crawl. A heated discussion in the other room, while I sup vodka and listen to all together now by the farm on spotify. I couldn’t care Less. Still the thought of death lingers, it’s dark grip holding on to my senses. I’m safe. I watch the world in slow motion, music the only thing that can soothe my troubled mind. I will hold on to the music. Hold onto the octaves that keep me sane. The melody is muffled by is speaking to my soul.


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