Prosaic soliloquies performed by a quixotic person


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You know one of those times when your brain runneth over with a great deal of ideas and thoughts that are in dire need of being vented out of your head but you couldn’t seem to either express them coherently in verbal or organize them in sequential order on paper; and that being so, you’d feel frustrated beyond imagination and belief? Or in other words, when you suffer from Wordia Constipationitis.

And guess what, this is one of those times. My cerebral bowel just refuses to relief my musings from the confines of my higgledy-piggledy grey mass of a brain.

Man, this is frustrating.

Written by SZA

19 January 2011 at 8:55 PM

Posted in Oy Vey

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