. .

vanity validation

Just glance at the red shirt beneath my long grey coat, there’s a peanut-brained songbird with a crookneck toward his own plumb. I’m going to find out when the last day comes what a nothing idea this all was, spending time on something easy and meaningless just not to be the cause myself. I’m going to have to give something up. Something has to go. The palace crumbles into the sea. Every improvement faces the shore and every exploration taken through tunnels underground.