“If the modern catma of this movement involving love and peace and other new-age dorkisms dictate that a certain inevitable inevitability inevitably happens, then I should be, and very well should be, smiting the worries of speaking thinking and feeling the mind.
But, alas, that takes substance. And in this day and age, substance is a supersized uncommon commonality defined by the fat in your tank and the gas on your ass. It makes too much sense. We are too reasonably rational and rationally reasonable.
This art, however, makes sense because it doesn’t make any sense at all. That’s real, baby. A nice reminder that you are indeed breathing for freedom, but you is still starving. That’s right-on, friends.
So take what laura says thinks and feels as a refreshing reminder, because she probably won’t stop anytime soon.”
an excerpt from the novella "Peacetime in Wellington" by Dr. Elysium Ferry