im about to have deja vu

i slept at work last night. it was like a fun co-ed lock-in sleepover only nothing like that. early sunday AM on manhattan streets is a lonely-time. people without the comforts of a lover and a warm bed mill about buying chocolate croissants or sardines. they make lonely eye-contacts or avoidances with each other, all writing dialogues theyll never expel. and then, im sure, they go home to poop while i attend to work. its all the coffee they drank.