I can't stand myself. Well, I can stand.
I mean, I'm not awash.
Or it's more a head crunch, like a pressure from a million civilians wailing, hating, horrible horde throats like gullible goats on floundering boats while handsome girls boast about their hopes and mothers fret on smooth dark notes from swarthy blokes on wind swept shores that shimmer from screens on neighbors walls while little boys chew on dirty wires and husbands hold their horror and half sisters steal the milk money from the shelf while mother goes dry and cries to herself knowing her ship has keeled on a crusty man she thought was wrought of the iron of which she worked over and over to become a sharp annealed knife worthy of this wife who knows the things that need be done to bring this world to kingdom come that leads the world to solemn life of which we all deep down do want but can not get from out of front of the blast of the last new thing
I mean, I'm not awash.
Or it's more a head crunch, like a pressure from a million civilians wailing, hating, horrible horde throats like gullible goats on floundering boats while handsome girls boast about their hopes and mothers fret on smooth dark notes from swarthy blokes on wind swept shores that shimmer from screens on neighbors walls while little boys chew on dirty wires and husbands hold their horror and half sisters steal the milk money from the shelf while mother goes dry and cries to herself knowing her ship has keeled on a crusty man she thought was wrought of the iron of which she worked over and over to become a sharp annealed knife worthy of this wife who knows the things that need be done to bring this world to kingdom come that leads the world to solemn life of which we all deep down do want but can not get from out of front of the blast of the last new thing