He told me to sit here.

So I wait. Waiting for what? I don't know.

The suspense is killing me. Wait. No it's not. That Mountain Dew I drank is killing me...and all the other GMOs that I consume because my brain tells me I need them. That's not important right now...why am I rambling? I'm in the middle of nature, waiting for him. I should be calm and peaceful. Solitude does that to people. Most people. But not me. I can't sit still. And. Do. Nothing. Maybe that's why he told me to wait here?

He told me to...

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Pollution is an artist
and poison is a poet

Death is the brightest of colors
Noise is the sweetest song

Pollution won a grant
and poison won a fellowship

We're meeting for drinks downtown
to celebrate their well-deserved
recognition.

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