I feel you white rabbit chain apocalypse meandering slowman showman never wins to the go-man. Never wandering wondering who is it why did I say that when does it end.

No one will tell you. No one will tell you when it ends.

That you determine for yourself (is undetermined (in this case)) I give up I don’t want to do too much I love you, you know.

Very much.

But beyond that we must function, to stay occupied.

I met a fellow once who did nothing and was happy.

I don’t know.

If we told more stories like these, whether they were true or not, maybe we wouldn’t be so pressured into finding work and making money.

But you like paying the rent just like I do.

And I’m going to finance some real estate.

There’s nothing real about it. And it’s not really anyone’s estate.

It’s a “mis no mer” lolololol fuck up the ass is that to do with my life?

So it goes. You relate but ah, as it comes, so sayeth the wizard to blow out the candles with window flame is in excess.

Then we vault. And it ends.

So there. Is your happy conclusion. Jarring. Pickled.

Disparate of my way is yours and we see this happening so often that no one speaks up.

It’s hard to say why.

I won’t.

Go there.

Hemp.

And hemlock.

Hemp.

And hemlock.

Brethren.

Stay warm,

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