Today I am tapioca pudding, a creamy taupe, slightly gelatinous, a slide of sugary mucus, a thickening tongue.
I am a big wobbling blurp of tapioca pudding with two watery eyes peering fretfully around folds of squish, and a small blinking red light of a headache dit-dit-dit-ing, the glow just barely visible through the rapidly closing earholes.
I am an unsuccessful mold of tapioca pudding, threatening to lose my shape entirely, my hair divided into coated clumps and limply oozing, my fingers and toes webbed with viscous gak.
Today I am tapioca pudding, frowny and goopy and blobby and wet, but at least I am delicious.
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