insatiable desire to pour out some kind of product,
something from myself. something to say thats important.
like sometimes i feel like nothing new
or fresh has struck me, nothing colorful
nor exciting, nothing promising or inspirational.
but now i can feel the collection box of
psychosucculent mind truffels
has quietly filled, appearing undetected
much the same way air condenses into water
on glass. it is swelling with the richness of
dimention-transcending creativity milkshake.