Habits are a thing that have a pertinent ring. I’m not a sister who cant put it on as soon as I hear a peculiar ring. Its a call from an uncertain place with a person unknown to me, a unfamiliar face. Ritualized and actualized by a man from an uncertain place to confounded to a calling card for a person of a certain grace….. WE ARE LOST IN SPACE!!

for a individual that tries to grab, its lost something that they can not have as trying to catch a cab to a level of tranquility and to me this is my soliloquy. A bender a turn to forget a thought that do’sent rhyme its just wrought with regret of a place that I cannot forget, my consciousness.

RUN as fast as can you can’t find me, I’m in a tower of of unconscious friends with no rhyme or reason to their unconscious bends. A piece of solid oak has been twisted, soaked, chipped, twisted that bent. as the oak is twists it begins to crack as it soaks it’s color lacks as it chips the smoothness becomes hacked

Habits alone have manifested to to something that’s quite unattested to the reflections of something pubescent, sad really? We are so alone extraterrestrial really ET PHONE HOME. In these habits we all have become drones to the silence of consciousness making us really….. ALL ALONE :(


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