substitutes and making do

And when it came right down to it, the claps of utterance drowned the molecular vibrato raging under the skin. What mattered was obfuscated by what made sense. The everyday forced fragments of sublime into tiny time boxes, stolen, from cab rides, movie commercials, and smoke breaks, distributed dilute into non-existence. What I wanted was short-changed by what I was supposed to want.

And then it was all downhill.

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