Not like the person who performs a task with diligence, not like the person of few words or the shy in any circumstance. Not one of those … no not one of those. See … forced repetition, anything to continue the stream of consciousness, to turn nothing of substance into a pseudo power-poem to hide the wreck of a mind creating it. Aye be, see? Def (initely)! Gee! Maybe they’ll say “hi?” JK. Laugh my nothing off. Psh, quit reading. Stop the Alphabetization.
Tricks, though. When your head spends most of the day underneath your elbow, arm blocking the sun, you think of outlets, and if one depends on words and words don’t come, outlets there are none.
“Rhyme!” One can chime.
Yes, there was one. If you didn’t catch it you’re anynone.
But I digress, though I find it difficult since no point here exists. Balled fists, tought-tendon’d wrists.