It's the humidity that brings them out. The human bugs crawling out of the asshole cracks of the city. They can smell the 'artist' on me I guess and figure me for an easy mark. Now to be honest most of these cats are just down on their luck and wanna make me for some change. No worrys there. A buck or whatever i've got under and they nod me a small thanks and make their way to wherever it is they've got to go. It's the others that bother me. The Hungry Ghosts of the Bardo Terminus.
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