Thhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee thing is this. This is the thing, and the thing, is thusly this. You see.

And thus, you may feel something a bit odd in your whithers today. It could be that you are dreaming of taking droughts of Dramamine (unit of measure: drams), or perhaps possible pensives of Pontius Pilate’s palate, who ponders persimmons.

We are the persimmons. EAT US.

You can rest assured that the way is weirdly wondrous and wends through the jungle. Night thoughts, we can be assured. Assuredly, be.

Thoughts of 1 (2? 3!) hit my cortex. Impaled! It is time for much work, and we have so much to do, and not much time.

Lastly: remember. We are all (in love). In love, we all are.

In love.