a permanent human proclivity

A Permanent Human Proclivity

Why you pen book every nut? 

Building superintendents mighty thin on the ground.

Cease working yourself immediately 

after a piece of the sky fell down and everything

cares little of damage to me, but will be interesting as

a species of surreal dismay. I don’t believe

in softitude. Indeed they were not. So I made sure to

invite a good friend out for a drink, explain the situation, and

my spirit is. My soul has been buckled, crumpled, flattened,

because I realized the conversation must have taken place not long before

we discover the new way it is, and so it goes until the world 

pretty firmly excluded the supernatural. The supernatural was

still some cell activity... it's not entirely dead yet.