This is some contentment:

the way my nails bend and crack between my clamping teeth

and how the put-on screams purr along my ear bones

Listening to female anti-christs with my legs hanging in lotus

With no twist in my stomach or agony in my eyes

Discussion with acquaintances of trivial matters

All conversation is cliqued and unimportant

But I will not be the person who philosophises away such a nice day.

The way I am wollowing is no longer an issue,

because I mildly loathe everyone of them anyway...

'I like big words,'

You have no idea.