>get psych degree
>become disillusioned with the world and my minuscule place in it
>distaste for society rising
>decide to open a little witch shop
>even offer subtle counseling
>occasionally rip chuds out of their hate holes 
>never had a customer leave without personal growth 

>be yesterday
>laundromat fire left me with barely any clothes
>fuckthisqueerhatingearth.png
>still have customers today
>can’t cancel without incurring penalties
>fuckthisqueerhatingcreditprocessor.fat
>smell like burnt plastic
>wearing rescued sheets from head to toe
>appointments not going too bad considering the circumstances
>then arrived the mound
>a ball of unwashed hair stretching out into a protective sphere
>sebum flows and drips from my bead draped doorframe as walks in
>understand immediately that I have to do something about this
>I’ll save this one Jonny
>but I can’t get a word out of him
>he communicates only in grunts
>he's distracted for some reason
>finally give up as the hour elapses
>grasp failure for the first time
>as he leaves, he suddenly turns, whipping salty droplets onto my face
>I convulse but keep my composure
>finally hear his voice
>think we’re finally going to talk
>he extends a wad of money toward me and begs for a handy
>the straw that broke the camel’s back
>can barely squeak out an apology as I exit the room and begin crying
>I just wanted to help