There’s a term for attrition of affects, eyesore. 
 
And there’s a hypertonic struggle to housesit too much information. You know panting exists, pliable and glossy. Human body fat is worth $100,000 a gallon.  
 
The good gold. I fall into it.  
 
A life is charged for care. I’m otherwise a coffee head! But let’s pare it down.   
 
Have we ever done anything but tamper with the weather? Oh, who knows?  
 
Oh, Ladytron. You seem so fake-excited in the sprayed periphery, a three-dimensional muse staying in balance inside a soft radical vapor of bigness, loosely demolished.