Moonlight Sonata

Who am I kidding? Not even me. Writing while being stared at, get behind my shoulder Satan, it still wouldn't be worth reading (if people still did that sort of thing). So so so so. I could comma it to make it something sensical, but, so. How do you make them feel again, once we've cast off feelings? From calm pharmaceutica to the rage that only grows until you pop or pop or pop or pop, or you do something you can't come back from, some things, you can't come back from. Do you regret it? Does the digital keep you sated, the sating stains, the tv hypnosis, the lost at work for fear of home, the lost at home for fear of the masses? Whatever it is, is it enough to last you? Enough with those not bangs! No more questions! No more cameras. No more control. This is not the border. We are the flux, the bonded, and the flowing. I only apologize for the scribbles, the reading it later (in wonder and wtf) is worth every tap to the tap tap to the tap.