Broken debauchery taking it’s toll holds no bounds on the weathered soul of any foot it walks upon, however he never believed this would drench his ever incomplete insight into that other-worldly light so foreign to his usually strong willed disposition-hunger. What was he seeing now? Was it a heated blue or green? He checked to make sure he was not wearing glasses then looked around the room again. Greyscale colors perhaps, or perhaps a very green brown, maybe a b flat with overtones of c sharp, he couldn’t be sure, he checked one more time, this time in the mirror, but he wasn’t wearing glasses.
After a few moments of rubbing his ungraceful eyes he walked over to his breakfast denying clutter of a kitchen table and drew up his ear phones out of a landscape of empty bottles, partly smoked ephemera, and half full bags of mold, in order to carefully examine them further. Once satisfied that they were indeed headphones he in a highly meticulous fashion placed them on his head one ear at a time, and listened intently into the headphones only to realize to his surprise there indeed was no sound coming from them. He had distinctly remembered there being sound in them at one point but he couldn’t be sure when or even more importantly why. After a moment of awkward attempts of backwards remembering he walked over to the toaster and spent a desperate eternity of 15 minutes and 34 seconds trying to find the headphone jack on the toaster. He wanted to listen to what a toaster sounded like while it made toast. He was about to feign ignorance at the toaster and find another appliance when:
To Be Continued . . .
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