His own sense of settled steed greedily(damn right, too!) ENRAPTURED and recaptured itself YET again, he’s been… thinking about thinking ABOUT thinking times-a-thousand lessons in eager-faced learning —-
Of UpperCLASS wisdom, indeed. To feed by the teed of life IS TO REMAIN: mainly harassed and HOSTILIZED by PRETTY MUCH nothing
And then the paint w-i-l-l start again, to fight, FliCkEr and make… its own sorts of oughta-really-have-been
Brilliant and abstrACT and distantly distracting sense and atTheExactSameSakeOf time.
His eyes have momentarily sided with themselves again and dutifully snared his Verbatim Brain. This is how it works every single second time, actually—-
And that is.. “fine”. Maybe even MORE THAN THIS. His name is Dali and his divulgence is: a rather artistic thing of none-too-commonplace aforementioned resilience.
Wherever had that word been mentioned a billion times before(?)
But for delightedly inside of his housing of MinD. As he opens that particular door: to absolutely nowhere