Hai Europastan

Euro short? Meet the English online for lessons, they have the best thieves. Oops, trade secrets and loose lips, what what. I speak of dreams because I have puppies and kittens, and the people too, kick in their sleep, dreaming of dying or living in ways they can't awake. Shake shake, wake up and it'll be okay! But then you remember and groan into the pillow, so maybe you should stay down. Stay awake and fake die again in your head then, wondering why you even bother to sleep as you light a cigarette and lounge back, take a hit and like a junkie nodding it is all gone, superlong ash attached to a burning filter, as you moan back into another dream and drop the smoke into the ashtray, already asleep again. And that's just for those who ever woke at all, some never do, like me; arrested internal element, heathen run, scrap. Is it special? I don't know. There are more places like this, beyond our imagination and its universes, and the universe. Glad to have seen the stars the times I have, glad for the sweat too, it tastes like salt girl, don't say that tears taste bad, to me they are sweet and there is no sad, just momentary scares.
But I said I wouldn't lie, so, people you love will die, and you will have near death and worse experiences; worse like the "here, watch this" moments, and the pain you learn to live with after, or you may have been in the wrong place at the right time to then wish you were never born, or you could have parents unchosen by you to make you feel so, or a badly chosen spouse, sadistic siblings and/or steps of the same ilk, lecherous uncles and fearful or fawning aunts, and then you get down into the pain of the adopted or the fostered and deeper into dumpster babies and doorways, bathrooms, back rooms and basements, it goes as deep as you dare,
and it is all us,
ineffable.