Skin.

Pores.

Hairy flesh.

The idea displeases my tubes 'n glands.

Hypercidal Civilian

I need some indicator- a dense nose drip, maybe a heavy dose of brain fluids mixed in, as well- to avoid, descend down from the groping vines that eradicate intestinal and emotional stability, acting with deliberation.

The world I live in, contrary to your barren planet, moves fast. I keep up by clenching my cognitive diaphragm, triggering all gears into turbo drive. With this, quality impairs, control over it varies. Then as I reflect on the project, there is ugly; no satisfaction, confidence downs.

(----------------------)

I imagine a beautiful corpse sometimes, not in a homicidal or suicidal sense, but as a sign of solitude and relief. Death is a curse and life is a blessing. What does that make me..

?

What a morbid post.

, to give a sense of what's in store for my reader

Elephants, not to be trusted, in any circumstance given they are geared in parachute garments- maybe you have a fetish with death by crushing?- prone to live in corporate exile, eternal miscarriage, and restless leg syndrome.

Nonsensical logic.