I just wanted to write something, add some more pollution to the pure chaos that exists beneath all our little tits and tats.
Simply put, I'm going to brush and floss my teeth, install my retainers for the night and wiggle-wuzz with my bedding. Reality is like thermo-plastic, where you heat and set and it holds it's shape... this is an assertion made by a fictional character written by Robert Anton Wilsion. It's NOT like silly putty constantly changing the ICs (Initial Conditions).
Yawning now, boring words. Same thoughts.
I said this would be short, and I'm going to leave with this:
Your truth, your desperation, your grudge, shadows of shadows. True love exists in total annihilation~