Shellfish delight, on the WHEY? to depression.

Sometimes I feel that even though you don't feel, you can still feel the eel. Works with the world all of the time. . . I even thought that 2nd hand embarrassment could be worth it. But everyone's feelings stay put in the same little cramped space of the space age jar. The jar that we're all in. It may cook your brain into a meatless canvas of paper. But it the end, all you have to do is appreciate. . . nothing more. Just observe and watch the insects trail your footsteps into the ongoing events that slowly opens up the purple void of oven accessories. And melancholy tunes out your soul, until it can grasp your left-over steak dinner from your last drops of memories. But if you're not into steak, then cool. Because i fucking hate steak.