...And that, in turn, makes me think this: Rational or no, there is just something too powerful and vengefully poetic about brains that eat your brains: a food that, as you consume it, consumes you.
As so I am here to tell you that I ran. Even though I ran to a goat's-blood taco in the back of a Mexican deli on Tenth Avenue (yes: another blood sausage), and even though it was delicious and fragrant with cilantro, at the end of the day it only tasted like cowardice. And cowardice, of course, tastes like chicken.
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