so these hollow threats of beauracracy have subsided. i don't know if i'm the ocean or the rocks, but i'm sure a shoreline metaphor lurks. though by lurking, i guess that makes the metaphor the monster. hey crown me king feat. peter benchly- "the metaphor." or feat. john williams or whomever he ripped the jaws music offa. offa like hoffa, like gangster, like dutch schultz's dying string of babble. let me go out like someone trapped in a cavern, says me.
so i guess i don't know what to do with myself when my girlfriend isn't around all the time.