Nah this ain't hokum, it's giving me hiccup. This pretentious life, this weary existence, this invincible tolerance, all other things. I'm just not getting it, nor I could give it a curious damn like before, eons before. I just don't, and I don't understand this either. To give this some accolade? No, I don't think so mister. Despite the length of the process, a salute would be just enough, I dearly think. The enunciation of the same thing, almost every single fucking horrific time would simply clarify that this would be the apocalypse of what is worth once, but bitter now. The damnation of the edifice. You get me? Can you follow my twisted tongue? No, I don't think so mister. 'Cause I, just like you, both of us are trapped under the same mild-punctuated bogus promises, most by me. I seemed nonchalant to you. Maybe I do, but maybe I don't. I don't know. I guess this is just me mister; a human that forgets as fast as a drinker downing his beer.
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