Nobody reads this crap. I examine it with fascination after placing it here, I note the shape and consistency, the colors and texture, and the density or lightness. Sometimes I recognize a vulgar remnant of reality. Then it swirls in the bowl and I watch it all go away.
Life, death. Sex and loneliness. Joy, sorrow, heat, cold, day, night, sun, rain. Love. This is just a tiny excerpt, made grotesque in magnification, from the beautiful awesomeness of the never ending cycle.