A Scholar Can Never Let

I Don't Like Allegory.

In Time, In Time They Tell Me, I'll Not Feel So Bad. I Don't Want Time To Heal Me. There's A Reason I'm Like This. I Want Time To Set Me Ugly And Knotted With Loss Of You, Marking Me. I Won't Smooth You Away. I Can't Say Goodbye.

While Yes We Can Both Agree The Sudden Recovery Of This Footage Smells Not A Little, And That We Appear To Be Bits Of Tinfoil-on-string To Some Malevolent Government Kitten, Yes Yes Yes But, Borlu, However They've Come By This Evidence, This Is The Correct Decision.

My Dad Hates Umbrellas, Said Deeba, Swinging Her Own. When It Rains He Always Says The Same Thing. 'i Do Not Believe The Presence Of Moisture In The Air Is Sufficient Reason To Overturn Society's Usual Sensible Taboo Against Wielding Spiked Clubs At Eye Level.

If You're Brave Enough To Try, You Might Be Able To Catch A Train From Unlondon To Parisn't, Or No York, Or Helsunki, Or Lost Angeles, Or Sans Francisco, Or Hong Gone, Or Romeless.