is how much i have to say.
all the things i want to tell
you evolve, lovingly, like
a revolver. see? that’s me
trying to be all bullshit. do
you hope? well, i dream. and
what’s more bullshit than a
dream, right? then again, is
psychobabble just another slice
of the baloney? do those who’d
say so have a soul? what matters
about a soul more than our expres
scion of it? the act of deciphering
psycho with all of this babble?
