There are matters of an emotional seperation.
That defense mechanisms show a shadow.
My socks are sweaty!
It's my life and I do feel hostile.
In such environments that defeat the purpose.
“I have put my genius into my life; I have put only my talent into. my work.”-
Oscar Wilde.
And in this verse of poetry,
I claim to state it as fact?
However, in truth or in solidarity,
I threw up my backpack into the wind. . .
and as it came down.
I fell beneath it.
I breathed.
And I breathed some more.
Only to reason abductively.
I'm emotionally starved.
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