Terminal | Operator
The fun never stops. What? Yes it does, of course it bloody well does. But if you've a wrangle on yer wizens enough, you can fool Ego off its alpha-cycle to no-mind the matter which lifts the dust in blinding storms betwixt the seasons. Then again the fun doesn't come, but becomes apparent it was with you all along! It happens by metaphoric bug or speck, that an eye will close to in shielding. And if, indeed, long enough squeezed in squint, a habit happens with cyclopising effect. There goes the depth of sight you had & all appears unreal upon just one plane - which really is no way at all to fly. So gently with a little coaxing lifting, we can effect a crack enlightening us once again to a true depth of field, double vision, honest viewing, & thus with this proper appraisal apparent, dismiss one can the funk of bunk. Turning away from the burning cathode ray gun, close the door & with a tune or twelve in gentle liltation I can maximise the profits manifested from the oozings of my internal creative leisions.