Classy child performing his seance, grasping whatever he can. Not like he craves anything. He prefers non eyes. I call him, It. Crazy and belligerent. It deems to make so some changes.. Just tentacles spilling all around. No worry. Another sip took, another note noted It slips and slides and ends.... At some point. Nevermind, It was idiotic to begin with. I shouldn't ever have even started.. But composure pushes me otherwise. Poking it's eyes. It's been a while. Do you even see where you're going? Not the drinkers, only the clown.. Only the mime.. It