hunch-backed children with algae in their hairs make these horrible screeching noises today, between sentences. from their days back at sea. under sea. oxygen tanks and giant landscapes. now nobody needs oxygen tanks because you are surrounded by oxygen and you could call the earth a tank i guess. but they sound like angry sea-whales with harpoons in their heads.

whales cannot fit between sentences.

i do not know how they do this. they are magicians and can make anything fit anywhere. they will make your head fit inside their brains. how does anyone do this? fold, fold. mashy mash. it cannot feasibly fit inside of there and have enough room for mathematics and dappled seaborne clouds and triumph.

i swing my feet for fun and think about saying things but there is nothing that can be said. that is just how it is i guess. nothing complex is so simple as can be conveyed verbally. as you might mean it to be conveyed, anyway. like THIS. i ignore it but i remember it, and there is no point in that.























































































huhp!































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