the problem with sadness is that it is useless just like the “just like” mode. he switched it off. compulsory beetle. ants around it. the winning army and the winning victim are both toxic.
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so they eat each other with exquisite clicks of tongues, bright fireflies crowded in one plastic room of loads, midget slivers, wind-howling radio boxes, puppets, neckties.
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a swarm of dots asked for photocopy, the judge denied saying he didn’t know the word. he was weeping, fat, climbing the ladder. then he reached the top, he could rule over that iron bulk.
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