are these storms of existence like pestilential hordes, are these wars irrevocable, is there nature in humans, is it just fuel for the fire.

his tongue is as long as my head.

i loves you, comet, don't let em take me, don't let em handle me, or treat me mean.

i predict this empire will preside over it's own demise and the deliverance of the natural world. but don't hold me to it.

she isn't interested in acquiring new habits.

the heart of america is waiting like a patient and long-suffering dog for release.

the worst lies are the ones we don't even know we tell.

there is no speech nor language; their voice is not heard.

we won't remember any of this.

we'll remember the pictures.