It’s the season of torrent and pollen, we harvest our generosity and our little resolutions as our noses excrete thick, long ropes of mucus; the pure irony of expelling our unwanted substances and emotions.
And because of this downpour, I can’t light my bonfire properly, but screw it, I’ll just light a candle in memoriam.
Why not I expose the beach to radio waves and throw a match into it and watch it go ablaze into a sea of fire barbequing every organic life form as though it were hell on earth, ah the thought of a future fuel/cancer-killing reagent that has been in our midst for eons.
Heh, saltwater.
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