Whispers from a Venice heart, alley cats, disposable caffeine, romancing literature, paparazzi, false accents, inked loiterers, underground subways, unspoken friendships, delicate burns, southern foreigners, televised grayscale, vessels of liquor, a distant mindset, sickening cologne, the lilac, a vandalised canvas and those political tunes.
My night life must seem so strange.
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A blur of words without a purpose, mainly written while on morpheine.
