The air is sawed off, wishy and doing better. We were dangerous, once.
Smooth rhetoric is purely blur. It’s too late to make it sparse. Now we’re appalled. Even our restraint is wishy for its own sake.
We could see from a solid distance, your rakish note to yourself, you mixed mediums .. no shit. None of mine.

As I understand it the exact second you insert the first-person, a rotary force from moral freedom will drill 5 feet down underground, a strafed, ethical spectacle falling into proverbial and natural coherence like mumps, something you never saw and you never will, you gestalt freak.