you played a game with my mind and i played a game with your insides after. what a cruel thing it is to seperate, and create some sort of insatiable hunger between two masses. one day one decides to bend and falls into the other and it creates this uninhibited banter about nothing in particular. you can call it what you like and no one can say otherwise. it's all a matter of opinion. there's such a running of unatainable thoughts in my head. it's such a mystery the history of art.