fresh taste of infrequent anger, dry bitterness with lip-biting and lips dodging. Can’t sing ya to sleep every night I guess, don’t know if i prefer it to listen to the sound of my teeth grind for a chance to clench my fists and flex my poisons out. I didn’t make it, it grew, this once-molehill mountain that makes me drive fast, makes me drink alone, makes me want to make my exit now and beat the traffic, skip the bigger pain assumedly due the next morning. Unreasonability is what it is, and we all deserve a night of unreasonableness, preposterous chains of thinking, and besides, I had a dream last night where you got mad at me. A little less action makes for a lot more, a lot more until we next meet and after getting a good honest look in at your face, it’ll all melt away and after a few notes from your voice, you’ll have sung it from my brain and all forgotten and all forgiven. I hope at least. It’s not tomorrow yet. Another drink, let’s de-assure.