listening to some more moby, ferverently (though that's not the correct adjective) adherign to the beautiful constant which dictates it be so.

there's no continuity here. i am plastered. i am high. i am nothing but... but what? the something that corrected the half-dozen typos that exist between the beginning of this statenment and now.

yeah!

yet here i am.

i am constant. i exist in every state in which i exist - though teach does not impress upon the ohter.

feailure.

yarrrrr.

feeliure.
failure.
and yarr.



i'd never deign to publish this bullshit.