You could just go back to sleep.
You could put a fan on yourself and just splay out, make it look like you’re skydiving into the ceiling.
You can write All this off.
And not do shit.
Not interact.
Not traverse the busy highways,
You don’t even have to speak to another human being.
Your choice.
The hard way?
Or the super fantastic God damn this feels so good way?
With great gluttony comes great responsibility.
With looming lethargy letting itself in.
With…with.. π₯± π₯±π₯±
π΄π΄π΄π΄π΄π΄π΄π΄