“I'd like to stick my gum on this leaf, here, wait up a sec.”

“Like, a literal skull emerges.... if you put the hat on, the hat literally

skeletonizes your mind and head.”

“Don't mind if I do.”

“...”

“...”

“Breaking down in high-res already there, bud.”

“Fuck my psychological response, a lie.”

“Also, fuck its resistance to whatever's happening to you....”

“Whoa.”

“Just relax.”

“I see God.... Whoa, a joke.”

“McDonald's.... there's some people who go in there and pray.”

“I've the sensation of being submerged beneath a dark hood.... but it feels ….

genetic, I dunno. Very much a part of me.”

“Yeah, as if your biological hair is a blunt crushing weight, but at the same time

you're spiritually jovial, beneath it.”

“Bowing, I feel like doing.”

“Sinking to the ground. Repenting.”

“....”

“Bro, whatever you're biting on, it sounds cool.”

“...”

“REPENT.”

“You said it.”

“...”

“Mild horniness. Do I still have a face?!”

“Ya don't worry.”

“An unsolicited, botanical dick pic by the sauna wizard would be inclined

to gingham outward, fixed concrete in used tires like an anxiety pail

if you asked that girl what breaks literal hearts.”

“Whom her heart has been literally broken by. Are you referring to the girl you're

thinking of, now?”

“Her heart.... dragged pulsating through the squad's underwear drawers.”

“Emerging chalky. But stinky”.

“...”

“Crane your neck vicious like a dog mating, mate. Gain space....”

“As if via my brain, feeding a lawnmower the synthetic myth's taste of

donor kidney.”

“Arial defies printer ink like the work of a pornographer of principle.”

“A 69 Ghostbuster eclipse jazz-mauling a vineyard.”

“Shaping the wine.”

“Or a radical animation of a child bride, whom Oliver Stone puts on the

gynecologist's throne, electrocutes then pours acid over.”

“...”

“...”

“Dude's vests are ugly, though.”

“Fuck Oliver.”

“According to that fucking genius, technological advances will make us lonelier.”

“It's no secret!”

“Acid....”

“Lonely on the inside.”

“And the outside.”

“....”