I wish I could spend this energy on this paper

by pressing the pin in at a certain angle and by using a physic terms i don't know,
i'm sure that i could remove my fingernails at an alarming rate. alarming for me,
and i'm sure everyone else.

wouldn't my parents be proud.

today i learned self-hilarious-mutilation as a form of endearment, a way to find peace in a closed world that is admittedly at peace if i would only stop being a dummy.
in a fisheye, everything is exaggerated. comically, we see each other as subjects of a great understanding,
a subject in a fine art photograph geared towards grandmothers of our gerrymandering lawmakers who wish to really be that "man" stereotype that we are constantly told to
"Overthrow!"
"Overthrow!"
"Overthrow"
through each lens we can see what we think we like to see, or b e t t e r yet what we think other people would like to see.
usually, we are particularly wrong in the process of believing that we are not yet deadbeat door-handles, willing to be turned a certain way just so that someone can "See inside of us! Understand me!" we cry, we long to be looked into, what is behind door number three longs to be shown,
you have to wonder who gets the car at the end of the gameshow if it isn't picked. maybe it is reused, likely it is given back, i'm sure an explanation is easily forthcoming but in my fantasy world i see rusted, bloody seats behind every forlorn gate of perceived wealth and greed,
if only we had gone with what the crowd said. conform, conform, conformitize
comfort in craft.
craft in peace.
rest in.
repeat.
breathe

show ourselves in pieces, better yet in tongues

if we are not understood it is my own damn fault

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the scots-irish are boring.