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This girl told me Never stop making art. So I decided I had to write another poem. Is sleep deprivation required to be successful? The other day I smoked a cigarette & I didn’t enjoy it. Yesterday you rolled us 3 blunts to smoke & I loved it. I want to drink until I’m too drunk but I always immediately regret it because I just fall asleep & then when I wake up I’m super dehydrated & I usually have to throw up. Walking down the gray streets here there are cracked skyscrapers, tree roots raising sidewalks & spotted pigeons. Phone numbers are written on signs all over the world. I can’t focus if there’s no music playing. I think the ampersand is cool. I am thinking about blood orange soda sweetening tongues & candy wrappers on kitchen floors. I am addicted to creating things. There are at least 21 half-finished canvases in the guest room. There are 5 extra blank journals in the desk drawer for when I run out of pages in this journal. The kitchen still isn’t clean from the chocolate-chip-cinnamon-clove cookies I baked yesterday. Plants need to be watered. I am working on a thesis for a project from the point of view of something that’s been discovered. All I got so far: A major discovery has been made & it is me: I am a new discovery. They discovered me & now I exist. They are trying to come up with a name for me. I don’t understand their obsession for such extreme categorization & separation. I am very confused & quite honestly scared. I am discovered & I don’t know what this entails. I overwhelm myself with responsibilities due to this addiction. Existence itself became an art project. I don’t think about death now. In that immediate way. In that urgent way. I am thinking of going on that hike & sitting in the hot springs under shooting stars with you again.