let it all drop

i don't have a clue.
of course i realize this.
and i hate myself just a lil for speculatin.

nausea and the like are written with a fictitious detachment. at least usually, the employed don't have the luxury of anti-socialism.

speaking of self-loathing. yeah. the taxidermy previously referenced is in process, fur sher. and why not? i haven't accomplished much by any measure, my own especially, in too many years.

least i have friends. the few i've made and kept. those sweet suckers.

i'm staying up. it's necessary. an unreleased soundtrack in one ear. i am not unhappy. but i will be tired & don't have backup singers.

i want to kiss that lisp.