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so severely anti everything and the thought process is incomplete as a half-finished sentence uttered on the doorstep of a premonitioned death and you know it will come so you pensively wait for the other shoe to drop, a mask discarded in the castle dumpster after juliet and the bad guy walk off with romeo's optimism and as he slumbers walls tumble down and the fire will become un-concealable though the words have been chosen so carefully the lack of premeditation eats away at you and you find that things change and impressions are simple things to craft and manipulate but you're the one doing it and you're the one who is accountable for the deception, inadvisable, working this black magic on strangers.