There’s a lonesomeness in proving one’s self right.
Constantly seeking validation upon accord of one’s self.
I’m not a fan of giving ultimatums.
Cut me in, then cut me out.
Friendships aren’t supposed to be the butcher shop,
Work-accords are not the ever-faltering chopping block.
Some people think because I don’t like them,
I hate their work.
Or I hate their work and inevitably don’t like them.
That happens too.
Otherwise professionally.
I’ll respect you in public and keep your secrets sacred,
Just as the way I found them out is.
Nevertheless, it’s indubitable.
Don’t have to work in a bakery to know how to pick up breadcrumbs by the grasp
Of chopsticks.
Catching flies are easier than waiting for the jar to fill.
Honey or Vinegar.
The Wood Block is where everyone meets their demise in character.
The ego of existence never quite wraps up.
In Death’s Arm.
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