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Kirtag Gothic


* You wake up. Every door and window is closed, the blinds are still shut. You already hear music. No matter how loud you turn up your TV or music, you can still hear it. It will not be ignored.

* Maybe you will go to church, or at least, your body will. You can’t remember where you left your soul.

* You order food. Your hopes are as low as they have always been.

* You see children with packs of cigarettes, puffs of powder coming out. It doesn’t worry you, you did the same when you were their age. They take a bite.

* The music stops. The sound system creaks. The musician makes a sexist joke. “Please, no more,” you cry out. He doesn’t listen. He increases the offensiveness. Everyone around you laughs. You feel someone’s spit on your arm.

* Your grandma secretly gives you money. “Buy yourself something nice,” she tells you. You buy something alcoholic.

* There’s suddenly an assortment of pastries on your table. It’s been the same since forever. Coconut flakes and pink icing. You know this because it even inspires a sense of nostalgia in your grandma. You wonder how old the pastries on your table are. You take a bite anyway.

* The music gets increasingly louder. You hardly know the song. Everyone is singing along. The words even spill over your own lips. It happens automatically.

* You’re still waiting for your food. 

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