Yeah as sappy as that sounds.
And who are you to judge what sort of sappy happy happenstance, I choose to flavor my syrupy life of maple sugar moments with.
This piece of random poetry has been brought to you in part by the "Hangover Foundation for Getting Over". And is dedicated to the undulating waves of innate nausea that threatened to knock me out right on top of those pretty tulip patches /clay pots of hyacinths and daffodils/and right under those lacy white cherry tree blossoms.
Also, G-d, I know ure pulling the strings, will you ever stop just letting go in the middle of nowhere. I dont need to be reminded of how much a pre-programmed puppet named predestination, I really am. Even when I pretend I dont.
Cheers/Hugs and Happy Spring Imbibing and embracing. There is nothing like the pure and unadulterated comfort of a long embrace.
Sooo comforting under the comforters.
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