As the huff and puff of a paralyzed masterpiece prefers to procrastinate, all awhile it’s sentimental artist proxies to cry. Agitated, ambidextrous, softly set eyes, those same sane ones which have been staying the dire distance this time.
Utterly at tens with their rapid selves yet and, ever still, distantly prepared to habitually stare… … At another five-dozen hours of outlandish and equally eccentric egoism, when instrumentally met with maniacal level of whereabouts
And, no doubt..
That these utterly inhumane and whispering utterances shall presume to proceed at a pace of fiercely felt endeavour —- yet what ever can be made of a livid, breathing illustrator’s harshest attempts
At inevitably creating softly, softly sedation: first with the nipple and, lastly, with the nose-hair. Eagerly