We didn’t need to sleep inside of Holocaust minds. Not at all actually. Didn’t even mean to need to —- bring the place to a shuddering standstill. It’s purely wideAWAKE and it’s purely sugarcoated in a source of comfort and numbers. She’s

A serious state of momentary bliss, this vagabond lady with eyes for industry and a mind met by the middle with “utter… silence URGENCY, please.” We’ve done the math and it’s daft, daft… DAAAAffTt as a mother-effing disaster can get itself to become. Just

One version and, yet, they’ve turned themselves into two people with nothing but for utter… “hope.” Held together, they shall —- unearth softly spoken —somewhere else— words. They don’t want to drink ten thousand pints of putrid inside of their aged old minds ever again. “We’ve

Crucified the way it feels to’ve felt everything which sings, and stings… and watched all of the dAnCiNg dIgItS do their thing… ‘til getting themselves perplexed back together again.” These aren’t memories. Or even MERE-EAGER MEMORIES of memories. Just… a collapsed brain and BEGGING TO BREATHE… “ALL BY itself.”

We’ve brought it back to basics actually, about a million-billion-ten-zillion times TOO MANY FOR ANY mind to matter… and still fallen so far… “there they all mother ******* are(!!)”