Concussively detonating all illusions of renewed intelligence and sleep, this morning's jackhammers were succeeded by a noise so relentlessly loud and penetrating it was like waking up inside a turbine. It vibrated the bones in our chests. It was not just unpleasantly pitched, it was shockingly painful. Passing it on the street was so air-shattering I couldn't understand how it was legal to run on a residential street without warning all households within at least the three-block radius I had to walk before I began to feel that earplugs even meant anything. I still can't. Hestia had made her nest in the hall closet. I am made of adrenaline. [edit] The culprit seems to have been a vacuum extraction truck. Our neighborhood should have been issued airport worker ear protection.
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- 1: How do you love? How do you solve the etiquette?
- 2: And I'm sorry that I forgot that binders don't go in the dryer
- 3: Trying my best to arrive
- 4: And where the arrow leads, you never know
- 5: The earth is too smart for us to break through
- 6: Cigarette, Alka-Seltzer, career to the back of the place
- 7: So can we say we'll never say the classic stuff, just show it?
- 8: Did karma do you justice when you're down and out and lost?
- 9: The rose will grow on ice before we change our mind
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- Style: Classic for Refried Tablet by and
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