Unmarked
Unclaimed
Unloved
Untamed

The skip-intro bro stands upon the shoulders of the commercial-pass lass. Who’s that climbing up his torso?

Pussy moderators do not a merged reality bubble instigate

When you’ve just made use of the ubercommon expression “make of that what you will” and it is as if some super secret context lock lifted and my make-of-it Zanpakutō suddenly achieved it’s Bankai release.

When saying something is the wrong decision every time.

When you realize that had you not tossed all those button up shirts you could totally have constructed a pocket-sash.

He turned knowledge into wisdom and the unknown into the known

When you say the wrong thing

I’ll imagine myself an amoeba amelt in a sea of acid jazz.

I suppose stating something aloud denotes intention in a way thinking something cannot, even to oneself; because, part of the human experience is questioning morality within our own heads and all manner of nasty shite might appear, to our own horrors and with intent levels approaching zero.

When Amazon receives your new Love Nugget subscription

I feel like an imposter syndrome imposter.

Everything has meaning. A fair chunk of this meaning is some bullshit.

Wait, why is there an ‘S’ at the end of all fours?

Why am I trying to say something in the first place?

When it best behooves to reach for stones, not stars

Perhaps I ought take up Buddhism and exorcise the desire to share my thoughts along with any other non-islandic desires currently fucking with me.

A leopard can change its spots whenever it likes simply by splashing around in some mud. This requires a very bored leopard, however, since increased difficulty hunting without those mesmerizing splotches is likely the only benefit of the bath.

Feels like a lot more things could have been allowed to dry on top of my head throughout the course of my life.

It’s time for American journalists to unionize for the purpose of creating a self-policing stable of credibility.

The book in my head
Won’t fall out when I’m dead

They die with me, then
All those things I could have said

When your subconscious is over it all and interrupts with “fuck you for being creative.”

Empathy and apathy are way more closely related than I had originally thought.

Does it hurt a little less the next day or is there a little less of me to lose?