In bonded words, this absence has blurred into a 4-year curse of unspoken restraint, and while my walls are wet with vein paint my heart pumps something oil-based; what part am I playing? Oh right, the bait...the lure for lost souls--those unfortunately awake when the world sleeps--I'm their mistake waiting to happen. So where's The End? That depthless vista of plentiful smiles... how many miles? Or is it "whiles" that lay between me and that one dream--all grass-green and sunbeams and that mysterious "she" (a different face every time)--is it minutes or is it distance? Maybe it's just circumstance, the whole thing is dancing one step out of sight, hiding behind the night, every now and then coming alive in a burst of light but NEVER close enough to reach...it's like the "other side" of sleep. Yet like a moth to the flame, there before the grace of [who?] go I. Tripping over reflections of neon fenceposts, latching on to the "catnip for humans" (green/greed...coincidence I think not)... welcome to all the "EXCITEMENT!!!!" For the love of "Bob", entertaincementalltales...give them to me! I swagger through the pseudonymous bog of nightwares into the disjunct morning-nation of "SALVATION ALL HAIL THE FIGHTIN' JESUS!!" Whispers to wage battles [are you mysterienced?] of contradictionaries, sub-flutes of champagnebones call the wax of