Head-bond-to-table

 

            I come here thinking that things are okay. I arrive at the doorstep of Aunt Banefulness, for Mother Sanity has left me in hopes of… redemption?? And any way I try to think fine of it, loneliness doesn’t endorse any type of comfort. I construe that sometimes puking out words is pointless. Sometimes I feel that the only one that can hear me is trapped in a song… or a notebook. And I long for someone to heed my lack of great societal words. Is one to just sit and wait for so long that it feels almost unfeasible?? Is it impractical?? Or are hopes far too high?? Maybe spending much time with head-bond-to-table is bad for the core. Maybe essence is rotting. Still, is it only virtual for someone to hear me?? How pathetic. What a feeble, useless subject.