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.