The Darkest Hour Delayed. Survival of the Silenced SO MANY. / A Right Royal Rap on the Knuckles. The War that Walked of Its Own Accord – “Aching to Feel ReAL.”

What if we said something with signals attached? And what if we nervously meandered to Neanderthal accept the whole DAMN soggy-faced situation?

We’ve EVEN ENDLESSLY entitled ourselves with upended miniBAGS OF SATURATING cocaine to remember our fodder-of-TANTALISED_brain. When there ARE A NUMBER OF ways to

Seem, shall they say, Tall ‘n’ All and with-it to an excellently exclusive extent – “Mad Madagascar (MISHAP OF) Minds Out-On-(FOREVER)Rent!” When they’ve laid-in-bed with their worrisome heads on fullON ****SAKE fire and TRIED for total ******* delicacy of DELIBERATENESS anyWAY.

What were we even MISCHIEVOUSLY seeing inside of
Our BUTTER_&_BREAD HEADS but for utter_ *******_discreetness mixed with Complete Commonplace disinterest: “in all of these goddamn warm-to-roasting hot thoughts intruded by themselves anyway. They’ve REALLY done the deed Times-A-BloodyBILLIONMILLION and still

… … Held their heads together in drained awareness and LEFT suitably self-prepared = to stare down the barrel of a snared gun