To take some of the dank out of these posts, I must focus more on the commentary of existence. Weather putrid or bliss, all is worth noting.
Complaining gets tiresome quickly and is worth nothing to read, if only for the amusement found in the over-reactive drama of those in the dark.
Speaking only of highlights and grand plagues of happiness just isn't real.
Not all are locked away in bunkers of destitute air, pumped in from the acknowledgements of what realities have always been.
Well, what the fuck, I am. But I am free and locked down. A mad minded, thick thought generating man. With closed expression building within and random scrolling ideas. Thoughts come and go, some land, some crash and others never really present. Some are in bound stacks, sketched on trees or coded onto square post notes, decorating the walls and open spaces of lost, invisible walls. Some are completely lost to the high speed transit of reaction and procedure. Then some are here.
