the last throes of the ego

THE LAST THROES OF THE EGO

Hawk on the wing. Warts on the albino dwarf’s dick. Gum on the sole of a dancing shoe. Crackers crushed into the floorboard. Mites in the rice bin. Eloquence like a racing engine with no drive shaft. Suicide, the last stamp in your passport.

The brain goes on synapsing 6 to 12 minutes after everything else shuts down.

Can there be anything more terrifying?

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