this is the first night since i arrived at klean that i will be unable to post.
i am crafting a piece about the friday i would like to forget, but it will have to wait.
i cannot concentrate.
for tonight, someone lost control.
tonight, someone listened to the wrong voice.
tonight, someone jumped the fence.
in the blink of an eye, and with the drama of a queen he was gone.
our b.
who upon arrival, could not form a word with those beautiful lips.
but could finally string a sentence.
then finally knit a paragraph.
and by the end, make us all laugh...
buddah like drops of wisdom would drip from his lips. and just as often he would confuse us with his mystifying musings.
but he was uniquely b.
maybe he won't use.
maybe he'll come back.
maybe.
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