They also said I ought to become addicted to this, because I cannot help having a way with words; it is...one cannot escape...you know exactly what. No matter what I'll do it's just like riding a bike...complete sentences at least, eh? No, total confidence. Here they are hearing you; go on, exploit the situation.
Needs and wants, craving all the time for a good spot of emptiness to hold me over until I can get back to reading; that's fine for now, sip on the stew of ungainliness and remorse. They hear that too! They hear all the tones you're missing without those spanking new headphones--those which are absolutely vital to the continuation of musical discourse here on earth while we're all relatively still damned. It's fading, you see: the sense that we'll burn. We're pretty sure it's just going to end and no one will feel too bad. No one feels now--not truly unless they're advertising!--and how will this look in a decade?
The end will be attached and might not even open in a new window when you explicitly click for that.
At any rate, I was told to do this again in a minute; after precisely a minute's break, and that will help. The world...the universe...
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