Blah 13: Ass

My ass hurts. The price of, seemingly, being normal. Or feeling normal. Or pretending to be normal, to the point in which it doesn’t look as fucking unnatural as it usually looks for me. I don’t get it, though. Why do people come to these pretentious coffee shops in Jægersborggade, sit on a fucking uncomfortable and poorly cushioned bench, sip on overpriced and low quality cappuccinos and pretend to be fine with their asses hurting while they are at it? Fuck if I know. Why caring? I’m one of them now. Stricken by caffeine and a bad posture. Looking out the shop window to the pretty people walking by on the most hyped of all the hipster streets in hipster Copenhagen. I’m a tourist in the realm of normality. Just visiting, anxious and unrested. I hope my mum is well. I hope all my lovers are well too. And I hope my ass recovers from this undeserved punishment.

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