I. am. forever. packing. my. room. because. I. am. a. powerful. procrastinator. I. am. a. lousy. lazy. bummer. I. am. a. tortoise. I. want. to. hide. inside. my. shell. and. leave. the. mess. outside. to. rot. I. want. everlasting. holidays. I. want. to. be. a. hermit. I. can. make. do. with. living. in. my. tortoise. shell. But. face. it. There. is. no. time. to. stand. and. stare. I. have. to. pack. up. Is. there. no. place. to. dream. and. make. dreams. real? Where the force of a dream makes you so alive that you keep working at it? Can the dream be non-mundane and out of this world? Or. do. all. things. come. in. troublesome. packages. with. sweat. inducing. procedures?

We are always looking for something to satisfy that little vacuum. We want to enjoy, but there's nothing that can fulfill that major appetite for something more satisfying. Nothing in this world can be really perfectly satisfactory, I figure. And there's something out of this world? Yes, I know there is. but. i. aint. moving. in. that. direction. why? coz. i. chose. in. all. my. foolishness. to. fill. my. senses. quickly. and. impatiently. with. minimal. effort. I. chose. that. which. is. in. this. world. which. does. not. last. what. is. the. point. Man. we. are. so. reblliously. fallable.