fifty hours

The concrete and the sun do strange things to my mind.
Right now I can see the scent rising off my skin in waves. And the small damp curls of hair above my ears. And i can feel the thoughts scrolling through my head, leaving vapour trails. And the discords creep their little trails through the bark of the tree that's half-rotten inside.

And the little chemical monsters coursing around the racetrack. Mostly delusion. I'm turned inside out, something else is more distracting.

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