Ted (merovingian) wrote,
Ted
merovingian

Every hangover, once dispelled, floats away to Tumbolia.

They have a sad, lonely lounge there, where they all miserably wait for someone to listen to their glory days, giving people headaches and light sensitivity. They never seem to gather the ambition to go back into the world and start over, no matter how loudly they moan that they will. Bittersweet memories and obscure attempts at anthropomorphism is all that keeps them trudging along, day by weary day.
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