Dissolving ink and blotted grime insights in the late evening static. Sin proliferation by the infantile sophomorism of mid-life crises. The receding tide of affection from desolate shores, the ocean softly hissing it's prescience. Glass menageries slowly emptying a year at a time. The hungry, faceless mouths of over-socialization. Endlessly sorting the tarnished ivory notes of consonance. Not so slowly, the volume of my old angry child fades into an irrelevant whisper.

12:49 p.m. - 2023-01-12