Ffs, S.K. ❤

S. K. Nicholas


Don’t fall in love. Fall in love. Give up smoking then light a cigarette while standing on a balcony looking out at the end of the world. The death of everyone is so pretty. It soothes our bastard hearts and gives us the strength to carry on. It makes us laugh when we’re all out of money and reasons to keep the fire. Time. Nothing but time, and beer farts that drown the world in their gratuitous stink. Working-class dreams that flicker long into the night while billions toss and turn trying to escape because this thing ain’t working at all. Ain’t it so funny. Just one long ride into the heart of oblivion. One spiralling descent into those infinite mundane days where we organise ourselves accordingly into social gatherings and work and dentist appointments followed by coffee catch-ups where the discussion tickles the surface but never goes any deeper…

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