All Cut; No Paste
Winter is coming, and the world-scorn is afoot. I sense an electricity; insulated 80 days, dampened 340. Keep moving, as if there is no desire to remain statuesque then there is no sense in pussy footing. Smell nothing while blanketed and never sense approach. Whisper to the triggers, let them know it’s upon us. Never surprise tensity. Relieve neurosis seasonally, as it is a seasonal neurosis. Begin again the great white journey forth.