In the face of persecution, one can drift away into dreamy fabrications of swishing and gorgeous hairstyles – jealous of the seagull as it dismounts the lofty perch of the streetlight and gracefully swoops away into the distance.
The moment of self-loathing and raging sabotage is nothing more than a serial false loyalty.
I validate your alphabet where there is simplicity within the intricate complexities, and where the yearling suckles the lactations of its mother.
Trauma has pre-natal connections where silent screams ripple throughout eternity. Therefore, calmly observe the stiff upper lip of deluded professionalism, and describe the realistic mirage before you. Participation in laughter is not always rooted in sincerity.