against the tug of gravity meows

Tacky printed kitsch against the tug of gravity meows. Thumbtacked to scratchy fabric of lightsoaked cubicle walls, losing luminence to middle-aged Lindas who obscure it with rumors of hoarded brownies, whispering conference room B, I heard, and isn't that powdered sugar on your holiday-appropriate sweater? It meows, against the tug of gravity and monotony and spiritlessness, resisting the wilting poisonous vapors escaping from cracks in hope, the reality of dissatisfaction and its thumbscrew attack. Straining against the relentless drag of down, it proclaims a mantra unto the three-sided province and hard-haired Linda who, like a kitten under similar duress, hangs in there.