Sweat roll

I could control this expression or I could dance on the keyboard. I could batter this tendency, I could confront the mental enemy. We walk hours, we wake years, live lives loved and wives and sons. I am a man who's full of gas. I parse relentless at the pass.

Never divide, only add. The last 15 years were pretty much a fad.

Include yourself in this argument, take it all personal, everything here was meant for you. That's why the author is anonymous too.

Quiet yourself. There is silence somewhere on the shelf. He never even tried to shut his mouth. It takes amazing willpower and that has been thrown out.

Look through the dust in drawers: Rubber bands and paper clips and all of your awards.

Amaze yourself, unphased, loaded up like a room service tray, dedicate the games to the gays and the sun to the rays, the only day (today) to the one deity, the gaze, your gaze, her gaze, all paid up and ready, all taut and unsteady, straddling dynamite to take a side bet on the afterlife. I didn't finish that thought, you did, they did, they do it a lot. I was passed out on the cot.

It takes a certain sameness and everpresent drain to sharpen a knife edge nose and lead us to suppose there is magic in the fluff, that a wink is not a trick, that the end has an ending and our logic isn't sick.

I can't end on this note. I'm 35 and on my bucket list: Spain in May in a 32-foot sailboat.