
You gotta go check out this bit that makes me feel as though my aching nerves are being bathed in mystical essences. It's not long. It's not full of puff and blow, sturm und drang, just the bluntness of the gods, a nice warm breath of the real tracing the contours of my pounding head in the long circus of hallucinations playing out on your world stage.
Between listening to Glenn and reading this short piece, I may just forget the hair on my head and sleep through the night in celebration of truth. Even the most awful truth is ultimately as kind as a bubble bath, and how my heart howls that so few know that.
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