Fuck, shit, damn and all that crap!

I’ll fail without it. I just know it! Faith is fallacious. My ambitions find ostracism. My skull complains for lack of joy. Satisfaction is without a doubt MIA.

Damn company cursing such an affliction upon this sorry, sad soul! That much cash to fix a slab of carbon? Silly, isn’t it? Nay- ridiculous! Anyway, I’m skint.

Corporations rob the majority of sanctity, dignity—our basic rights! This world is run by mobs. Foolish, drooling mobs sans cogitation or insight.

Now I know why that fruit was a no-no.

The fun’s run out. My authorial work is a walking wound thanks to this stumbling block. All the wondrous words—lost.

How can I subsist without it?

Obviously, I can’t.