Moskva's burning.
Government's laughing.
What's that? Crimea's falling.
The ruble has descended, there is no God.
Vodka's failing its job.
Thionyl chloride with codeine gives me a-chlorocodile, then catalyze me, Krokodil.
Oh how clandestine!
My opioid receptors surge to life. They love the agonist.
Fade into blissful relaxation. Euphoric and talkative and relaxed!
I start to smell. My legs swell. I don't feel a thing. I'm sure it's fine.
I see through my leg, how strange.
People think I'm deranged.
"I wasn't happy," I say as the piano wire cuts through my leg.
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