A vamped up, angry argumentation takes itself so very immediate and serious this time. That touch of tremendous frustration and guaranteeing animosity, and a leaning-in, lousy-faced, disgraced silly little drug-dealer peels his eyes wide, opening again.. to sell the sorry shape of inescapably kaleidoscopic zen to a shameless addict’s addicted body of broken bones.

“No place like home… … no place like home,” he secretively whispers it so very well, almost as though beautifully embedded within.. an upside-down, hazed fairytale.

And, so suddenly soon, this crystalised feeling winds itself right by.. the might of his inviting mind // over matter… … go forth, oh crazed mad-hatter.