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@£%*;~,¨¨¨ I Sit In My Cubicle In The Work Mill ¨¨¨,~;*%£@
#@£%*;~,¨¨ And Feel Somewhat At Peace - I'Ve ¨¨,~;*%£@#
##@£%*;~,¨ Entered A Bright Anomaly. Morning ¨,~;*%£@##
#@£%*;~,¨¨ Liminality. ¨¨,~;*%£@#
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£%*;~,¨¨¨¨ No One Is Here. There'S Dust In The ¨¨¨¨,~;*%£
@£%*;~,¨¨¨ Air. A Strong Light Shines Through The ¨¨¨,~;*%£@
#@£%*;~,¨¨ Windows, And Turns The Office Into ¨¨,~;*%£@#
##@£%*;~,¨ Something New. I Pretend It'S The Sun. ¨,~;*%£@##
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@£%*;~,¨¨¨ I Speak With The Plants In My Head. ¨¨¨,~;*%£@
£%*;~,¨¨¨¨ They Are Getting Too Much Water, Or The ¨¨¨¨,~;*%£
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