It all started like a spiral staircase or a maybe spiral elevator because my legs were not moving and I was crashing about 80 km per hour.An elevator is a box inside the building of a building,controlled by a governor and not the kind of governor who has a white picket fence and wears Armani ties.It’s the kind which has a flyweight,anchor pin and stationary ratchets.It pulls the box inside the building of a building – the elevator to where you want to go.
Crashing then burning like the cigarettes you eventually put out,the cigarettes which are on the lips of this stranger who I’m sharing an elevator with.This stranger who reeks of bullshit,that you can smell a mile away all the way from fucking Exeter.

“How was your year?” she asked me.
“Like Neo when the bullets were shot directly at him.” I replied.

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2013

Aside

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