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Frustration accretes. Or accumulates. There is a difference, yes. The emphasis takes the piss.

There is a way to connect the various dots after disconnecting the notice but you're not going to get that far this time. The threat looms. It's an imaginary construct, made of China. My sense of place was replaced with pizza. Sometimes it hurts too much to support the weight. The troops need your kittens. Nobody is holding you back except for Roo.

The funeral called and asked for a second chance. The month of Halloween is a hell of a time to be dead.

This ceiling of time and time again makes me tired. If the consciousness is a trampoline, then where do the pings originate? Were we ever there? Did the car offer any recompense? Where the yearning begins, the rhyme cools. Inside the house there is a tiny house. Inside the tiny house there is a faucet. The faucet is for the people inside the tiny house inside the house. The house is really a museum dedicated to remembering the Bering Strait.

Sometimes, when we get like this, being together causes more pain than it's really worth. But maybe the safe will fail after all. Stacking one on top of the other before tossing aside every snide remark I've ever uttered. The half and half reminded us of what we used to do. Curtains are provided as a sheer courtesy, in case you're interested. Everyone was wondering about that. How the tape ends.

It was never supposed to be like this. There was always a choice, even when there wasn't. Denial of service terms are stale as old reverberations echoing in our bones.

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