The rain is pouring down around me. My sexuality is smoking within the years of cigarretes and booze. The current epoch is a realistic one filled with time spent sitting in meditative position doing nothing. I feel like going shirtless and having the droplets share their texture just in the morning, because I'm asleep and I should be alert and not shedding tears because of love lost. Buy from one being to the next, the earth mourns l, and I on its surface share sadness with the air.

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the dark distance which you present in some way manufactures a distinctly industrious gloom. I forget why the people act in such ambiguous contagious almost fungal fashion, but spreading out and inviting the world in
Is desparate not punk. I forget why we act like this because I don't want to know what shavings are left over after I have shed my superficial skin. It'll be a mess of loveless litter that may decompose. We'll just have to see who is the beautiful ones once your wrinkles are evident. You are pretty.

Very nice! Who created those?