The daily drill of bullshit routine smells foul of impending doom. It'll make you swoon like an unexpected stench in a public toilet populated by late night drifters and street trash fuming from the ass. An open invitation without recommendation from one pig to another allowing for the swelling of the brain within it's frame to occur like a microwaved egg. Don't concern me with myself while reaching for a shelf lined with the everyday needs of a needless blight.
to be out of my mind would never the less be in it for everything that tastes ...feels ...and comprehends can see the pain and emptiness of the lonelyness that stands to be had between no one and yourself