I love coffee. Everyday I live in a steam of whispers that feel like cloned birds running circles around my forehead, humming, so I guess they are specific kind of birds/ & I guess they're not on twitter but in beaks, under mouths, in. I remember drawing an*logies with a Philips TV set as a kid, that made me love cats with a foreign lisp or just stray people that wanted cats, to feel anything, something that makes them not be all solo like, flying in vacant parking lots. I also love mermaids with tentacles, especially if they have a crown on their head, yeah I'm probably endorsed or –ing/ same. It's the green beans before losing their virginity & becoming one with sharp whistles. Yeah I'm probably bullsh**ting, but coffee zombie is real in every part of America & tentacles exist just so you can hug yourself, in parking lots, throwing echoes in metal caves, as we must do living in kettles/ living in a world of unrequited handshakes.