Too Little Sleep

There is eldritch lore on the backs of shampoo bottles. It waits there like a coiled serpent winding its venomous way behind the sheen of plastic and silky, capitalist curls. Reading it can make a person wash, rinse, and repeat in an endless Sisyphean ritual that terminates not with lustrous shine or renewed volume, but with a waking nightmare where each bubble is a grotesque world of horrors unto itself, heaped into hideous galaxies of mind-shattering terror stretching out into a borderless madness-lather.

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